


Into the Light

by Namarie



Series: Into the Light [1]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Gen, Magical Creatures, Post-Season/Series 01, This is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-23 12:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 98,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10719312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: A trip into the past leads to shocking personal revelations for Lucy and Wyatt, which have huge implications for the whole team and their fight against Rittenhouse.





	1. Chapter 1

~~  
They were on the way back to the Lifeboat when Wyatt saw it. He stopped, so suddenly that Lucy almost ran into him, and stared. _What the hell?_ He took a step closer. There was no way he could ignore this.

“Wyatt!”

He looked up. Lucy and Rufus were looking at him, nearly identical expressions of confusion and worry on their faces. “What?”

“What are you looking at?” Rufus asked. “Whatever it is, you've been staring at those trees for like a whole minute now.”

“And you didn't seem to hear us calling your name, repeatedly,” added Lucy.

“Oh.” He blinked. That was strange, that he hadn't heard. Then he turned back toward the trees in question. “Don't you guys see anything weird over there? Between those two big trees that are kind of in front of the rest?” It was still there when he looked – the bizarre effect that had caught his attention.

“Between the trees?” Lucy was obviously baffled. She traded glances with Rufus. “No. What do you see?”

“The air,” said Wyatt, going closer. “It's all – shimmery, and there are flecks of silver and gold.” His friends stared at him like they were trying not to assume he was crazy. “You really don't see any of that?”

“Nope.” Rufus had followed him, with Lucy not far behind in her early '70s outfit.

“I don't – wait,” said Lucy. She squinted, and then paced back and forth a few steps as she continued to look. “There is something weird in that space there. It's like a-- a mist, maybe, but it is definitely not normal looking.”

Rufus squinted, too, and then shrugged. “I think you two are imagining it. Or--” He paused, and his eyes widened. “Or maybe it's because we're in the past, and magical regulations weren't as strong back then. Now. Whatever.”

Wyatt turned to him. “Magic? But … I'm not fae. Or at least, hardly enough to count for anything.”

“And my mom's fae blood has never made any practical difference in my life, either,” said Lucy.

“And I'm an engineer with a few drops of fae ancestry somewhere in there, who happens to have studied a lot about magic,” said Rufus with another shrug. “I'm just trying to offer an explanation that doesn't mean you two have suddenly become crazy people, all right?”

Lucy snorted, and Wyatt said, “Well, thanks for that.”

Rufus grinned. “You're welcome.”

“Anyway,” said Lucy, turning her attention back to the weird patch of air, “assuming Wyatt and I aren't suddenly crazy people, Rufus, what would it mean if there's an area of air that looks strange – shimmery, like Wyatt said?”

The engineer looked thoughtful. “Well,” he said slowly, “that's not exactly how the literature describes them, but I guess it could be a portal of some kind.”

Wyatt, who had taken another few steps closer, stopped at that. “A portal? To-- to the Wild Lands?”

“Yeah.” Rufus blew out his breath. “Someone trying to bypass the Boundary, maybe. Although what I read about them suggests they should have closed it behind them once they used it, or at least hidden it better than this, since they're really illegal.”

“Well, maybe whoever made this one forgot that part, or is just dumb,” suggested Wyatt. He was within a yard of it now. It hadn't gotten any easier to see clearly or describe, now that he was closer – but the movement of the … magic, or whatever it was, was kind of mesmerizing.

“Possible,” Rufus granted.

“Wyatt, maybe you shouldn't be getting so close to it, whatever it is,” said Lucy suddenly, from right next to him. She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “We don't know what it might be capable of.”

Wyatt blinked again, and turned away with an odd amount of difficulty. “Yeah, you could be right,” he admitted. “It kind of feels like it wants me to keep looking at it.”

“Okay, that's creepy,” said Rufus. He swallowed, eyeing the space between the trees suspiciously. “Let's just get back to the Lifeboat. I mean, we're not Boundary Enforcement or anything. This isn't our job.”

“Yeah.”

As the trio were turning away to continue their previous course, Wyatt heard a scream – from where they had just been looking. He whirled around. The portal, if that was what it was, looked more like a window now. Instead of shimmering colors, he could see a clear image of a woman on the ground, with her arms upraised to try to protect herself from a couple of thugs. “What the hell?!” he cried, pointing. “We have to help her!”

“Help who?” Rufus demanded. “Wyatt--”

But Lucy seemed to see it, too. “Oh my God,” she said. If Wyatt had done more than glance briefly at her face, he might have seen the shock and recognition on her face. “Oh my God, that looks like...” Without another word, she ran forward, reaching for the gun in her bag.

“Lucy!”

Both he and Rufus ran after her. Wyatt caught up in time to close his hand over her arm – just as she reached the portal. She let out a cry of surprise when she touched it. Then she jerked forward, and Wyatt was pulled forward with her.

“Lucy! Wyatt!”

He could hear Rufus's desperate voice behind them for an instant. Then he, too, reached the surface of the portal, and gasped. It was ice cold, so cold that it was hard for him to breathe. And then he and Lucy were in it, and they were traveling along terrifyingly fast through a frigid, airless place, and then he fell. Mercifully, before he hit the ground wherever he was going, he blacked out.

~  
“Wyatt, come on. Can you hear me?”

He heard her voice, and tried to open his eyes. It seemed to take a while, but he did succeed eventually. She was bending over him, looking worried. His head felt really weird, he noted. And he just overall felt not good.

“Thank God you're awake,” said Lucy. She sighed and looked around. “Maybe you can help me figure out where the hell we are, and how we're supposed to get out of this … thing.”

“What?” Wyatt accepted her hand to help him sit up. That made him aware of a dull headache, but he ignored it to follow her gaze. They seemed to be in the middle of a small forest clearing. The air smelled different than any place Wyatt had ever been before, and it felt different, too. He would have said it was a nice, pleasant difference, except for the fact that they were also surrounded by tall, clear glass walls. A cage. They were in a glass cage.

With a muffled exclamation, Wyatt shot to his feet. Then he groaned and nearly collapsed again. “God, my head,” he moaned, as Lucy hurried to support him.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Mine aches, too. And I feel … really weird. Not a good weird.”

Wyatt looked down at her more closely. Her face was pale, except her cheeks which looked flushed. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have even pointed out that portal in the first place.” Then he stepped away so that he wasn't crushing her with his weight anymore, and looked up. This cage had a heavy iron or steel grate as its ceiling, he saw.

“It's not your fault,” said Lucy. “I shouldn't have run after that-- that picture that we saw. It was a trick, obviously.” She stared at the ground. “The woman – she looked like Amy.”

Wyatt's heart squeezed. “I'm sorry,” he said again. He sighed, and walked over to put his hands on the wall. It was cool and smooth to the touch, like very strong, thick glass. For a moment, he had to fight back a jolt of panic. They were trapped. But he took a breath. Panicking wasn't useful. At least they weren't going to run out of air, or anything. And they were together.

“I can't see the portal anywhere,” said Lucy, from behind him. “Or Rufus. I guess he didn't come through with us.”

“I guess not,” Wyatt agreed. He glanced around the clearing. There was definitely no sign of a patch of shimmering air, or of their friend. There was no sign of much at all, in fact. Except maybe... He walked over to the far side of their somewhat spacious enclosure. “Hey. Does that look like a path to you?”

Lucy came over to see where he was pointing. She frowned. “Maybe. Not a very well-traveled one, if so.”

“Maybe a hunting trail, or something – although, if it leads here...” Wyatt clenched his fists.

“Maybe it's for whoever made the portal and the trap?”

Wyatt nodded. “Exactly.” In which case, he knew which direction he'd be keeping watch. Not that he could do anything from inside here. Although he did have a gun, and so did Lucy.

“Wyatt,” said Lucy then, as if she'd been following the same train of thought, “it would probably be a bad idea to fire a gun in an enclosed space like this, wouldn't it?”

He rubbed a hand over his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch. “Uh, yeah, probably,” he told her. “We don't know how thick this glass, or whatever it is, might be, and if the bullet ricocheted...”

“...It could hit either one of us,” finished Lucy with a sigh. “That's kind of what I figured.”

There wasn't much else to say after that. Grimacing at the headache that seemed to be getting worse, Wyatt sat down with his back against the glass, facing the opposite side where the trail opened out into this clearing. After a moment, Lucy sat down next to him. “I feel pretty terrible,” she said. “Worse, I mean. I think I have a fever.”

“Yeah, I think I do, too,” he said. “Maybe it has something to do with crossing the Boundary the way we did.”

Lucy gave a listless shrug. “Could be.”

After who knew how long of just sitting, Wyatt supposed it wasn't a surprise that he would drift off. At any rate, he woke up suddenly some time later, with Lucy's head resting on his shoulder. He blinked and tried to focus. Everything was kind of blurry, or hazy, or something. His head still hurt, and he was shivering now. Definitely feverish. He swallowed against his dry throat. Lucy was warm – too warm – but she was shivering, too. And it had to be late afternoon by now.

Slowly, awkwardly, Wyatt moved his arm so he could put it around her. His muscles ached, too. Whatever this was, it was bad. But at least he hadn't woken up Lucy, and she seemed happy enough to burrow closer to his side.

He fell back into a fitful sleep after that. Every time he woke up, he felt worse. Now his back was aching, more than the rest of him. He turned on his side, still keeping Lucy close. She was kind of sitting in his lap by this point. She mumbled something that he didn't quite catch. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Didn't mean to wake you.”

Lucy didn't answer. Instead, she let out a sigh that made him wrap his arms around her even tighter. This sickness was terrible, and Wyatt had no idea if they would get through it. But at least neither of them was alone.

~~  
Fenril had really just been hoping for a quiet hunting excursion with his son that evening. His wife had asked her boys to “go get something big enough to refill the larder after we eat tonight,” and Dennon had been willing enough to go with his dad. They had been pretty successful, too: they were taking back two rabbits and a young deer. His wife would be pleased, was mainly what Fenril was thinking.

That was when Dennon broke into his thoughts by shouting out, “Dad! What's that light? It's coming from over there!”

“Hmm?” When the man looked up toward where his boy was pointing, he saw a light – fairly bright, though it flickered now and then. Something about the flickering made him deeply uneasy. “Stay behind me, son,” he commanded, and started down the path toward it with his lantern held out to avoid any jutting tree roots. His rifle had a few shots left.

Nothing in all his years of experience in the forest could have prepared Fenril for what he saw there in that little clearing. Oh, he recognized the old fae trap quickly enough. He'd heard about this kind of thing before. The fact that this one had been left operational, never destroyed, and had therefore caught some poor fae living in the human world, was enough to raise Fenril's ire. But when he saw the unlucky creatures inside, he nearly dropped his lantern.

The lovely young elf woman inside had seen him approach, and she was looking right at him now. “Please,” she said, her green eyes wide, “can you get us out of here? My friend – he needs medical attention.”

Her friend... Fenril looked at the other fae again, in case he'd somehow seen wrong the first time. But no, the feverish, restless young man whose head was currently in the elf's lap was actually the source of the light. Which would mean... It had to mean...

“A Brightstar,” Fenril whispered, coming closer. He had never dreamed of having the chance to see one. But where were his wings?

The woman looked confused for a moment. Then she shook her head slightly and said, “Sir, please. Can you help us?”

Fenril met her gaze, ashamed at his brief distraction. The Brightstar was suffering. Of course he was; he was trapped in a cage. Perhaps that had something to do with his missing wings. He gulped, hoping that was temporary and reversible. “Yes, miss,” he said. “We'll get you both out of there, as soon as we can. I'm sorry to say I'll have to run and get my wife first, though – we'll need all of us together to open the trap.”

The woman nodded, a tiny bit of relief showing on her face now. “That-- that's fine, I understand,” she said. Then she looked down at her companion, who had just flinched and moaned again. “Just hurry, please.”

“Of course, miss,” he assured her. The urgency here was plain. He and Dennon would set a new speed record getting back to their house – and as soon as he told his wife what they'd found, he felt sure she would drop everything and rush to join them. It was a good thing Naomi had that bit of magical ability, since they would need it to help open the trap.

~~  
Lucy watched as the man and (she guessed) his son hurried out of the clearing. Judging by the movement of their lantern light after that, they were making good on their promise to move fast. That was good. She still didn't know exactly what was wrong with Wyatt, but they could all try to help him once the two of them were out of this thing.

She looked down at him again, still awed to witness the light he was emitting. It was a combination of amazing and worrying, whenever it flickered. That part had to be a bad sign. She wished Rufus were here; not only would it be nice to have his help and support, but she bet he would know what kind of fae Wyatt was. Since it couldn't be more obvious now that he was fae.

Plus, Rufus would be able to confirm whether she had changed or not, too, after waking up from her fever-induced doze. She felt like she had. She wasn't glowing, of course, but she felt different. Her senses felt sharper, although she supposed that could just be because she was in the Wild Lands. There was more to it than that, though. It seemed to her that her body had changed, too. Not dramatically, but enough to notice.

“No,” Wyatt mumbled just then, frowning and trying to turn onto his side, while his eyes stayed shut. “No, don't!”

Lucy hesitated for a moment, and then rested her hand on his hair. “It's all right, Wyatt,” she said. “We're going to figure this out.”

“Jess?”

She froze, and took her hand away. “No,” she answered softly. “Sorry, I'm not Jessica.”

He frowned again, and then slowly opened his eyes. They were glassy and not totally focused, but they met hers. “Lucy.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Hi.” He had opened his eyes a couple of times since she'd woken, and several of those times, he seemed to recognize her. She was glad to see that could still happen.

“Hey.” He smiled back. Then his eyebrows rose as he continued to look at her face, and he struggled to sit up. “You...” He coughed and winced, but kept going.

“Whoa, whoa,” said Lucy, trying to urge him back down. But he ignored her and, despite his clear discomfort, made it into a sitting position with his back against the glass wall. He hadn't stopped looking at her the whole time. She gave up on getting him to relax. “Okay, fine. What's so important?”

“Your eyes,” he replied, “and...” He reached out a hand toward her face. Then he stopped, staring at his own hand. If he weren't so clearly sick right now, Lucy would have laughed at the utterly bewildered look on his face. “Wait. Is that-- Am I...?”

“Yes, you are giving off light,” said Lucy, when he didn't seem to be able to finish a sentence. She wondered how much he was really understanding right now, delirious as he probably was. “I don't know why, except I guess it means you have to be fae.”

He gazed at his own arm for a few more seconds. Then he shut his eyes, as a spasm of what looked like severe pain shook him and he quickly jerked away from the glass wall. “My back,” he groaned. “Ugh, my shoulders...” Almost before she could react, he slumped forward, and would have hit the ground if she hadn't caught him.

That was the last time Wyatt spoke for some interminable minutes, before the man from earlier returned with his son and his wife. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the two of them, though she didn't say anything. The man had a coil of rope which, when he unwound several lengths of it, Lucy saw had a metal hook tied to one end.

“All right, miss,” said the man, nodding to her, “we're going to see if we can open the top of this trap. There should be a hatch somewhere, which my wife will try to find.”

“Okay,” said Lucy. Wyatt hadn't even reacted when these three showed up. He seemed to have sunk deeper into his restless sleep, and was shivering almost constantly although he was very warm to the touch. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no,” said the man, with a quick smile. “You just keep your Brightstar as comfortable as you can, and we'll do the rest.”

Brightstar? She'd thought she heard the guy say that word earlier, but she hadn't understood it then. She still didn't, although from context she guessed it could be the name of Wyatt's species of fae. Which as far as she could remember, she'd never heard of before this evening.

The process of opening the cage probably didn't take all that long, but every minute felt like too long for Lucy as she watched Wyatt suffer. Still, their rescuers worked quickly. The woman did what must have been some kind of magic to locate the opening in the ceiling. Then her husband used the hook on the rope to latch onto the door, and the three of them worked together to pull it open.

When the metal grate creaked open, Lucy was surprised to see Wyatt's eyes shoot open as well. He sat up much faster than Lucy would have expected, and stared out at the family. His expression (his eyes were still kind of glazed, she saw) was one of mistrust.

“Wyatt, are you feeling better?” Lucy started to ask. Before she could complete the question, he reached out and pulled her close to him with his left arm. She let out a startled, “Hey!”

“You leave us the hell alone,” Wyatt rasped, still staring out at the others. Before they would have had the chance to reply, he held out his right arm. A second later, Lucy gasped as a bright light appeared in his hand, and then coalesced into a sword. The same light wreathed the sword for a few seconds before it dimmed, leaving the sword still there.

“No, no, Lord Star,” said the man quickly, “we're here to help you and your companion. We want to get you out of this vile trap.”

Wyatt kept glaring at him for the space of several breaths. Then he finally relaxed a little. Now he looked confused. The sword vanished.

Lucy cleared her throat, trying to absorb everything that had just happened. Wyatt not only glowed now, but evidently he could _make a sword_ from his own body. That was pretty damn incredible. When she'd found her voice, she said, “They really do just want to help us. Okay?”

He gave a jerky nod, and let his left arm fall away from where it had been gently but firmly around her. Then he swayed a bit but somehow stayed upright. Sheer force of will, Lucy supposed.

With a few more minutes' work, their rescuers got the rope into the cage via the now open hatch. The hatch was right against one of the walls, which meant the rope hung down flush with it while they held onto the other end outside. Lucy thought they were going to have some trouble then, since it was clear that only one of the two inside could leave at a time. Thankfully, though, Wyatt seemed to accept her instruction that he go first.

Lucy quickly helped him tie the rope into a loop, which he put around himself. He seemed more alert now, though no less in discomfort. At any rate, he took very little time to climb out of the cage. Even with this fever, after all, he was in excellent physical shape. It was hard not to notice.

Once he got to the top and out of the cage, Lucy didn't think she was imagining that Wyatt started to act much more like himself. “Okay,” he called out, so that Lucy and the others could all here, “you can let go of the other end of the rope now. I'll pull it up and tie it to the grate up here, so that Lucy can climb out. Then we'll move the rope so we can both climb down.”

“All right,” the man replied. “We'll wait here for you both, and be ready to assist in any way you need us, Lord Star.”

Lucy watched him pause at that term of address. But he didn't dwell on it, instead suiting actions to words. She was so relieved to see him looking better already.

Hardly had she thought that when he stopped in the middle of tying the rope, grimacing and leaning forward. “What the hell?” he said, panting. “I thought I was done with this.”

“What's wrong?” Lucy asked, looking up at him from right below the grate. She wasn't close enough to do anything for him. Not that she knew how to help with this.

“My shoulders, my back,” he replied. He tried to straighten back up but didn't quite make it. “I've never … felt any pain like this before.”

Lucy bit her lip. What was going on with him? Why was this still so much worse for him?

“Lord Star, if I may,” said the woman suddenly, startling both Lucy and Wyatt. “I believe it's because your transformation isn't quite finished yet. This trap was created with several kinds of magic built right into it: spells to strip off any concealment spells, and also spells to restrain the magic of particularly powerful fae. Both would have been working against you. But now that you're free of their influence, you should be able to finish changing.”

Wyatt looked at her, and then glanced down at Lucy before looking away. He was scared, Lucy realized then, with a flash of compassion. Scared of what a completed transformation would look like.

“Wyatt,” she said, as quietly as she could while still being sure the sound would carry to him, “I-- I don't know what we've both changed into, but I'm guessing you're almost done with yours. And I know I still recognize you, light and magic swords and all.”

He snorted, but seemed to get her point. Then he stopped moving for a moment, his gaze going unfocused. “Oh. I think-- I think I know why my back hurts.”

“Okay. Why?”

In answer, he stood up and took off his jacket. He had only gotten his shirt most of the way off when two enormous wings burst from his back. The force of it nearly knocked him off his feet, but he caught his balance again quickly – with the help of the wings which he spread to their full span.

Lucy stared upward, jaw dropped. Wings. He had _wings_. And they were obviously large enough to be more than ornamental. And they were glowing, too. And... She realized she was staring, and blushed. He looked amazing.

Wyatt, too, looked shocked and kind of embarrassed. “Wow,” he said, and folded his wings a little awkwardly. “Wings, huh? This is … interesting.”

“You mean to say you didn't know your true nature?” said the man who had brought the rope. He sounded stunned.

“I guess not,” Wyatt replied. He shook his head once, and then crouched down at the opening in the ceiling again. “Anyway. Lucy, it's your turn. To get out of there, I mean.”

Well, since she probably wasn't going to grow wings herself... Lucy tried to focus. She was no soldier, but she could still climb a rope.

Of course, Wyatt didn't even let her do much climbing. Instead, once she had a firm grip on it, he pulled her up on the rope slowly and carefully. Once she was at the top, Lucy took his outstretched hand and pulled herself out of the opening. Then she took a deep breath. It was really good to be out of there. She would have had more trouble with being in there if it had been smaller, or the walls had been opaque. But still.

“Wow,” said Wyatt. He was looking right at her. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave a little shrug and explained, “You, uh, you did change, too. But it's definitely not a bad change.”

“Oh.” Lucy resisted the urge to touch her own face. She would just have to wait until she saw a mirror to know exactly what he meant. “Okay.”

“Lord Star,” called the man, “will you be flying your companion down, or are you well enough for that?”

Wyatt blushed and muttered, “I wish he'd stop calling me that.” But then he thought for a moment. Looking at Lucy apologetically, he said louder, “Um, I think it would be safest if Lucy climbed down. Are you all right with that, Lucy?”

“That's fine,” she said quickly, trying to banish the mental image of flying with Wyatt.

So Wyatt moved the rope so that it was draped against the outside of the cage. Lucy was a lot less happy with the idea of climbing down a rope backwards, it turned out – but then Wyatt helped her loop the end around herself, and told her, “You got this. You'll be fine.”

She didn't want to make him feel guilty about not transporting her to the ground himself, so Lucy swallowed and got ready to start the process. That was when he grinned and added, “Don't look down.”

“Thanks,” she returned wryly. But she did her best to take his advice, nonetheless.

~~  
Wyatt watched as Lucy made her way slowly down the side of the cage. She was doing well so far. Meanwhile, the people who had come to rescue them were watching just as carefully. He noted that the man and his wife had come closer, maybe to catch Lucy if that was needed. That was good. He still felt shaky and strange – although that didn't mean he didn't want to try out his wings. It just meant he wasn't willing to risk Lucy's safety in case something went wrong.

When Lucy was just a few feet from the ground, Wyatt stood up, gathering his jacket and pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. It was a little chilly, but it made no sense trying to wear it if he was going to fly. Which apparently he could do now.

“All right,” came Lucy's voice a moment later. “You can undo the rope now.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, and soon he had tossed the rope onto the ground. After that... Now there was no reason to wait any longer. Taking a deep breath, he leaped into the air.

His first flight was far from smooth, especially to start with. It was so bizarre, to have all these new muscles and ligaments and nerves, and to have barely any idea of how to use them. But he also had some instincts about flying, it turned out. After a few seconds of very much uncontrolled falling, he started to get the hang of it. (At least it didn't turn out to be too distracting that he was holding his jacket and shirt in one hand.) And a few seconds after that, he felt a rush of exhilaration so strong that it took a lot of mental effort to direct himself away from the open sky, back down to where Lucy and the others were waiting. But he did.

And of course, all four of them were staring at him in awe and amazement. That didn't fade at all even when he stumbled, almost ending the flight in a crash-landing. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “So... what next?”

“Ah,” said the man, nodding. “Yes. If you both would do my family the honor, we would be pleased to have you as guests for the night. Our house isn't too far from here.”

“You'd be welcome,” the woman added. “There should be plenty of food to share, although it won't be anything special.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Lucy with a smile. “Thank you.”

Wyatt agreed. He was tired enough that anything else besides a short walk, some food, and sleep was beyond him at the moment. Even learning more about what kind of fae he was could wait. He made sure his wings were folded properly against his back (this was going to take some getting used to), and pulled his shirt back on. “Lead the way.”

There was another weird thing that Wyatt discovered quickly as the party set out: he didn't need a lantern. Even Fenril, as they learned their lead rescuer's name was, barely needed his own light source. Wyatt's own luminescence, or whatever the right term was, was pretty much strong enough to light their way.

“It's good to see your luminosity at its proper strength, Lord Star,” Fenril's wife, Naomi, said to him just a second after he'd had that realization. She was smiling. “I hope that a decent meal and a good night's rest will see you fully recovered.”

Glancing at Lucy and trying not to blush yet again, Wyatt managed a thanks, and then added, “Please, you can just call me Wyatt.”

“Wyatt,” said Naomi, with a surprised but pleased nod. “Certainly. And you, young lady? What's your name?”

Lucy introduced herself. Their new friends also introduced their son, Dennon, who said a shy hello to them both before lapsing back into silence.

Somehow, Wyatt stayed upright and moving forward for the whole walk back to Fenril and Naomi's house. Somehow, he stayed awake through dinner, too. (It might not have been fancy, but the beef and vegetable stew with homemade bread was delicious. He thought he had told Naomi that at one point.) He even succeeded in staying awake to take a quick shower in the old-fashioned bathroom that their hosts directed Lucy and him to use. It felt weird to get his wings wet, so he avoided that as best he could. But after that, Wyatt only had a hazy impression of Lucy helping him to a bed before he was fast asleep.

~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely responses and kudos! Here's chapter 2.

~  
He was very disoriented when he woke up the next morning, lying on top of a bed he didn't recognize. The spot next to him looked like it had been slept in. When he heard a sound behind him, he started to sit up – only to feel an unaccustomed weight on his back. No, attached to his back. _Oh._

“Hey, you're awake!”

He sat up fully, turning to face Lucy. She was standing in front of the little dresser with a mirror across from the bed, and she was smiling. The changes he had noticed in her appearance last night were even more obvious now, in daylight. Her face was more pointed, her cheekbones more pronounced, her eyes were green, and although her ears were covered by her hair right now, he would bet they were pointed, too. She was very clearly elven – full-blooded. The look definitely suited her.

“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat. “What, uh, what time is it?” He wasn't glowing, he noted distractedly. Which made some sense, it being daytime now.

Lucy pulled open the curtain partway, so that Wyatt squinted at the light streaming in. “Almost noon,” she said. “You didn't even move when I got up a couple of hours ago.”

He glanced at the spot next to him again. So she must have slept under the covers, next to him, while he slept on top on his side. When he looked back at Lucy, she was blushing slightly. “Sorry,” she said. “Our hosts are very sure we're … together, and they don't have that many bedrooms, anyway. And I couldn't move you to put the covers over you.”

“Well, I obviously didn't notice that I didn't have any sheets over me,” he said, deciding not to comment on the other issue for the moment. He yawned. “I don't think I moved at all last night after I lay down.”

“Or this morning,” she added, with a little grin. “I'm betting you wouldn't mind a change of clothes and some food.”

At the mention of that, his stomach growled. “Yeah, those both sound good,” he admitted.

Lucy directed him to the stack of clothes Fenril had left for him. They were Fenril's own clothes, and so they didn't fit great since the man was a little shorter than him, but they weren't ridiculously small, either. It was also nice that the shirt was made to be kind of loose. He was pretty sure it would be uncomfortable across his wings if it were much tighter.

Naomi greeted him brightly when he and Lucy went out to the kitchen. “How are you feeling today, Lor-- ah, that is, Wyatt?” she asked.

“Much better, thanks,” he replied. There was no trace of the previous day's illness that he could feel. “I, um, I hope we aren't causing too much trouble for you and your family by just showing up the way we did.”

“Oh, nonsense,” she said, bringing him a plate of eggs and bacon. “It's our pleasure and our privilege. I only wish your arrival in the Wild Lands – I think I'm correct that this is your first time, both of you? - had been less awful and traumatic for you.”

“Can't argue with you there,” he said, and then started on his very late breakfast or possibly lunch. It was, once again, delicious.

“Naomi,” said Lucy a minute later, “do you know where the nearest Boundary crossing is? We … we have a friend on the human side who's probably very worried about us. And I'm guessing we can't go back the way we came.”

Rufus. Wyatt set down his fork for a moment. He'd barely had a coherent moment to think about their friend since they were dumped into that cage, but Lucy was right: he was probably frantic. Was he still waiting there, in 1973? Did he have any other option?

Naomi shook her head. “No. Those trap portals were made to be one-way, unfortunately. As for the Boundary, we're not very close here.” She frowned, thinking. “We'll have to discuss it with Fenril when he gets back from the trading post.”

That sounded fair enough. Wyatt had just started eating again when Naomi went on, “And by the way, Wyatt, don't you worry: Fenril and I have given Dennon strict instructions not to tell any of his friends at school about you – and we ourselves will keep your existence secret, as well.”

The bite of food he was about to swallow stuck in his throat. Wyatt coughed, took a drink of water, and looked across the table at Lucy. She looked just as lost as he did. “Thanks for being discreet,” he finally said, “but I-- I have to admit I don't understand.”

Naomi's eyebrows rose. She glanced between the two of them. “Just how much do you know about your kind, Wyatt?”

“Practically nothing,” he admitted with a shrug. “Until yesterday, I thought I was human. I only know the name of my, ah, species because I heard you and Fenril use the term. I'd never heart it before.”

“Oh.” The woman (she had to be an elf, as well, Wyatt thought) took a deep breath. “Oh, goodness. Then I guess I'd better sit down and make sure you're informed. And you, Lucy, since you need to know this, as well.”

Lucy nodded. She clasped her hands around her mug of tea, and then winced slightly and set the mug down. When she caught Wyatt's questioning look at that, she shook her head. He frowned, reminding himself to follow up on that later.

“All right, where to start?” Naomi said with a sigh, sitting down at the head of the table. “Hmm. Let me see. Wyatt, what sort of work do you do in the human world? Are you in law enforcement, or a soldier, perhaps?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I'm a soldier.” Those were two interesting choices for her to have guessed.

She gave a nod. “Not surprising. You see, Brightstars are more properly known as Brightstar Paladins. Your people are warriors known for their strong desire to uphold the law, fight for justice, and protect the innocent. They're known for their purity of heart, as well. They have an innate, unwavering sense of right and wrong, and an ability to get to the truth of a matter. It's very difficult to lie to a Brightstar, or even use illusions against one.”

Wyatt blinked and looked down, feeling his cheeks warm again. It wasn't that all of that sounded inaccurate … but it kind of made it sound like he was part of a race of mythical, impossible heroes. Especially the “paladin” part. And he would hardly call himself pure.

“Well, that sounds like Wyatt,” said Lucy then, and her voice was warm though he refused to meet her eyes. “What else? I mean, we already found out about the-- the glowing at night thing, and the wings obviously, and the sword.”

Naomi sounded amused. “Yes, those are the most important Brightstar physical traits and abilities. But you should also both know that Brightstar blood has very powerful healing properties, both for wounds and for illnesses. It's at its most potent when the Brightstar gives it freely, but that doesn't mean evil people have never sought to steal it. That's one of the reasons I talked about being discreet.”

“Oh my God,” Lucy muttered. “You mean... You mean, you and Fenril are worried someone might kill Wyatt to take his _blood_?”

Wyatt had to look up at that. The idea was more than a little bit disturbing. Their hostess was nodding grimly. “Your kind is very rare now, Wyatt,” she said. “Incredibly rare – mostly because of the vile acts of fae like the ones who made that trap. You would be a valuable commodity to those people, I'm afraid.”

“Just how rare is incredibly rare?” Lucy asked then.

“No one has seen a Brightstar in more than half a century,” was Naomi's response. “Many of us believed they were extinct.”

Wyatt clenched his fists. “Then I guess I know why I never learned a thing about my real heritage from my-- my mom or my grandparents,” he said after a pause. “They must have been trying to protect me.”

“Very likely,” Naomi agreed. “There were always rumors that some Brightstars had escaped across the Boundary to keep their families safe.”

The rest of Naomi's information about Brightstars was more alarming news to Wyatt. Apparently, they all shared an unavoidable claustrophobia – and in fact if enclosed in too small of a space or left tied up or restrained for too long, this captivity would end up being fatal. Hearing this made him frown and shake his head. “But wait. I've been stuck in small spaces and restrained before, more than once or twice,” he protested, “and I was – never any worse off than anyone else with me.”

“All right, except you were also a lot sicker than me last night, in that cage,” Lucy pointed out.

That was true. Wyatt was silent for a while, trying to absorb all of this. He was glad he had already finished eating, since he had long since lost his appetite. He hoped none of the food would be making a return appearance.

Then another thought hit him. “Hold on,” he said, looking at Lucy and then at Naomi. “Is it-- is it possible that I could be half-human, half-Brightstar? Because what you just told me about them, about my kind, sounds like the complete opposite of my father. There was nothing noble or heroic about him.” His mom staying with that bastard made even less sense if she had been a Brightstar … but then, maybe she had been trying to stay below the radar by sticking with someone totally useless like his father.

Naomi looked thoughtful again. “It's possible, I guess,” she replied. “There isn't much in the legends about crosses between Brightstars and other races. But here you are, so it must happen sometimes.”

Their hostess left the two of them to themselves after another couple of minutes, and after Lucy insisted that they could take care of their own dishes. Wyatt stood up then. “I'll take the first shift,” he said, but Lucy beat him to the sink. She grabbed the sponge, but then winced again and dropped it on the counter.

“Ow.”

“What's wrong?” He hurried over, gently taking her hand and turning it palm up.

“It's not a big deal,” said Lucy quickly. “Just a little rope burn from last night. I guess I need to work on my upper body strength a little, so I don't slip when climbing ropes.”

Her light tone didn't change the fact that there were, in fact, angry red marks on both of her palms. Wyatt released her hands. If he hadn't been so weak when he got out of the cage last night, he could have prevented this. “I'm sorry,” he said.

Lucy took a moment to get it, and then she scoffed. “This is not your fault, Wyatt – and even if it was, I told you, it's not a big deal. They'll get better. Besides, elves are supposed to heal faster than-- than humans, I've heard.”

“Right.” Wyatt wasn't really convinced, but at any rate he decided he could at least insist on washing her dishes for her. “Hey, we haven't really had a chance to talk about that. How are you handling your own identity shift?”

Lucy leaned against the counter with a wry smile. “I don't know,” she said, after a beat. “I mean, on one level, what's one more lie from my mom about who I am? So I'm descended from two Rittenhouse family lines, _and_ also not even human. Which one's crazier?” She scoffed again, staring at the floor.

Wyatt shook his head as he soaped up another plate. “They can both be crazy, Lucy. They are both crazy, and they're huge, important things. You don't have to pretend otherwise.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked at her hands. “Hey, some elves can do magic, right? I wonder...”

“What?” Wyatt put a few dishes in the drying rack, and then turned to face her. “Lucy, are you just going to--”

But she was already doing it. Her eyes were closed, and Wyatt thought he could feel something like a faint charge in the air. A second later, she opened her eyes, and stared down at her palms – which were now totally free of any redness. “Whoa.”

“You did it!” Wyatt smiled. “That's amazing.” She was amazing.

“Thanks.” She looked kind of shyly awed. “I-- I can do magic.”

“You certainly can.” He gestured to the sink full of dishes. “In which case, why don't you just take care of these, _Sorcerer's Apprentice_ style?”

“Ha ha.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “A little bit of manual labor never hurt anyone. Plus, don't you remember how that story ends? I'd actually like to avoid destroying Naomi and Fenril's house.”

He shrugged. “Fine. Spoilsport.”

~~  
At dinner that night, Fenril told them that he had a friend who knew someone who could help them get back to the human world – and maybe even in the vicinity of where the trap portal had been. “He's a mage,” explained Fenril, “who owes my friend a favor. Plus, he's a good man who would want to help, or so Sandy tells me.”

“Great, thank you,” said Wyatt, as everyone sat down to eat. As had been the case for last night's dinner, Lucy was given the seat next to him. “We really appreciate your help.”

The man just smiled. “Anything we can do for you both is our privilege. It's our great fortune to be able to house a Brightstar and his companion, even for a short time.”

Lucy watched Wyatt drop his gaze to his plate. Evidently he still wasn't used to those kind of reactions – not that she could blame him. But Fenril's news had reminded Lucy of something she wanted to ask. “Oh, before I forget,” she said, “may I talk to you, Fenril, or you, Naomi, after dinner? I have some questions about magic.”

“Certainly,” said Naomi. “I may have to join in the conversation late, though, since Dennon and I will be cleaning and preparing the rabbits and deer from yesterday. Fenril can start without me.”

Dinner was very nice, as Lucy was coming to expect. She took an extra helping, and she was pretty sure Wyatt had asked for thirds. At least that showed they were both completely recovered from their illness, she supposed. And it only caused a slight stir when Wyatt started to glow again, once the sun had gone down.

Once the supper dishes were taken off the table, and Lucy and Wyatt had persuaded Fenril to let them help with the cleanup, their host turned to Lucy. “Now. What was your question about magic? Of course my wife knows a fair bit more than I do on the subject, since she has real magical ability, but I'll answer what I can.”

“Thanks,” said Lucy with a nod. Then she took a breath. “Um, how common is it for elves to have magic? I mean, strong enough to, say, heal a minor injury.”

Fenril scratched his chin. “Well, all of us have a bit of innate magic,” he said slowly, “but it's rare for it to amount to much. Only a few of us can do more than a few spells, and those usually go on to train as mages. Naomi's one of the rare ones who has that potential.” His voice was full of pride and warmth as he talked about his wife. “She's descended from one of the ancient noble houses. Not sure what she ever saw in me, but I'm not complaining.”

Lucy tried to smile at that, even as a terrible suspicion started to grow in her mind. “Okay. So, what does that mean, if I...” She swallowed, feeling Wyatt's steady presence by her side. “If I was able to heal myself today? I had some rope burns on my hands...”

Now Fenril looked amazed. “Really? Then you must be related by blood to one of the old houses, too. But you said you didn't know you weren't human, isn't that right?”

“That's right,” she confirmed. Her heart was racing now. She tried to regulate her breathing. It couldn't be. Not in the Wild Lands, too. Not so soon after the latest life-altering revelation about her heritage that she still hadn't really begun to deal with. “I, um, my mother told me she had elvish blood, but I never knew my real father. But...” She had to know. “Maybe my family is from one of those houses. Do you happen to have a book with a list of them, or anything like that?”

“We do,” said Fenril, brightening. “I can show it to you right now, if you wish.”

Shaking her head, Lucy said, “No, no, we can-- we can finish up here, first. No hurry.”

Wyatt, who had been watching her carefully this whole time, said, “You can go ahead if you want, Lucy. I'll take care of this stuff.”

She met his gaze, aware she wasn't going to be able to hide her emotions that well from him. “Thanks, but … maybe you want to look at this book, too.”

He seemed to get the message, but now he had gone from slightly concerned to downright worried. “Yeah, maybe I would,” was all he said, though.

Lucy was quiet while the three of them finished the after-dinner chores. At least Fenril didn't press her on anything she had revealed or asked. He just said, “I imagine it must be a lot to process for both of you, learning so many new things about yourselves,” and left it at that.

When they were done, Lucy followed him numbly out of the kitchen to the small front room. There was a bookshelf there, full to bursting with all manner of books that, in other circumstances, she might have been intrigued to investigate. At this moment, however, she felt mounting dread. Which was ridiculous, she tried to tell herself. She was panicking about nothing.

“All right, let me see...” Fenril bent down in front of the bookcase, scanning each row. “Naomi would know right where it was, but I don't-- ah.” He pulled out a large, thick tome and paused. “Maybe you'd like to sit down on the couch.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Lucy said, with another decent attempt at a smile. She took the book and sat down, Wyatt sitting beside her immediately.

“Well, unless you're wanting to ask me about what you might read--” Fenril began.

Lucy shook her head. “No, I don't want to make you stand around and wait,” she said quickly. “I can, um, come find you and Naomi if I have a question later?”

“Perfect,” said Fenril. He smiled at them both, and then went off, he said, to join his family at their task.

“Lucy,” said Wyatt, as soon as they were alone, “what are you thinking you'll find in here?”

“I don't know,” she replied. When he gave her a look, she sighed and traced the raised letters on the front cover of the book – _A Complete History of the Most Noble Elven Houses_ – with her forefinger. “I mean, I have a guess. I'm just trying to decide if I even want to confirm it or not.”

He reached out and laid his hand on top of hers for a moment. “Well,” he said gently, “you know you're not going to stop worrying about it until you take a look, right?”

She laughed once. “I know.” With that, she took another deep breath, and opened the front cover.

It didn't take long to find the table of contents. Not surprisingly, given the book's topic, that included what she was looking for: a list of the houses, in alphabetical order. She scanned through them, noting in a distant way that there were a large number of them. But then she got to R, and then... There it was. All the air left her lungs.

Rittyn. The House of Rittyn.

“Oh my God,” said Wyatt, a few seconds later. “Rittenhouse. They're here, too?”

She nodded, unable to speak. But she found the page number it listed, and resolutely went to that page before she could talk herself out of it. She needed to know this. Maybe it would help them all understand more of Rittenhouse's endgame. Hell, they'd never found any written record of them at all in the human world, aside from the one kept by her grandfather and other members. This was a possible treasure trove. With that in mind, she moved the volume so that Wyatt would have an easier time reading it, too.

Only a few seconds into reading the history of her elven family line, and Lucy was sure, sickeningly sure, that this was, in fact, the same group. The book, written dispassionately as it was by someone who was clearly an excellent historian, described the House of Rittyn as powerful, notorious, ambitious, scheming, and utterly certain that their way of looking at the world was the best way. Everyone born into this family line, and everyone who married into it, had strong magical talent. Marriages were arranged specifically in order to keep it this way. The control that the matriarchs and patriarchs exerted over the younger generations was absolute. They brooked no disagreement. Several young adults were recorded in the chapter as having attempted to rebel against the Lord Rittyn or Lady Rittyn of their respective generations – but these rebels were either forced to obey (the book didn't explain how in detail), or they disappeared and were never heard from again.

Lucy rubbed a hand over her face. She had reached the end of a page, but it looked like Wyatt was still reading. She took the time while she waited to try to think. So these were the kinds of people she came from. What would Fenril and Naomi do, if they found out her connection to this notorious elven House? She gulped. No, she couldn't worry about that right now.

Wyatt looked up then. His expression was serious, but he took her hand again, briefly. “Remember, these people have nothing to do with you,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, barely audible. Then she turned the page.

And it got worse. There had been a point in history – about a century and a half ago, according to the book – when Rittyn House had almost reached its goal of installing one of its sons as the king of all elves. No matter that there hadn't been an elven monarch since prehistory. By force, by intrigue, and by manipulation, they had made allies of all but a handful of the other Houses. This was the era in which their notoriety grew, as rumors of the terrible things they were doing started to spread. Some Rittyn family members were said to be exploring and practicing types of magic of which, one letter from the time period said, “no respectable elf should ever even show an interest, much less make it his focus.” Very little proof was found at first, and the House's rise seemed unstoppable.

But then some brave soul (never named, Lucy noted; no doubt he or she had eventually been silenced by agents of Rittyn House) began to spread tales of things they had personally witnessed on the Rittyn Estate. The Rittyn mages were delving into the secret of immortality, this source said – an area of study long since forbidden due to the dangers it posed. They were using arcane spells and artifacts, performing experiments on living creatures and even other fae. Worst of all--

Lucy let out a cry of dismay, and put her hand over her mouth. _My God._

“What?” Wyatt looked at her. The light he was giving off, softer indoors since there were other lights inside the house, only added to her distress.

Breathing shallowly, Lucy shook her head and pointed at the last couple of paragraphs on that page. She couldn't say the words out loud. If she did, she was sure the nausea she was feeling would build past the point of holding it back. And this wasn't even the last page in this section. Her family's true history.

Lucy could tell when he had gotten to the point that had hit her so hard. He drew back, eyes wide and dark, and clenched his jaw.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, feeling tears build in her eyes. She shouldn't be sitting next to him. She shouldn't be anywhere near him. Oh God. What if-- what if her father and mother found out about Wyatt's true nature somehow, and they...

With a whimper, Lucy stood up and fled across the room toward the front door. She should get out of here. She _needed_ to get out of here, before she brought disaster on her new friends' house and everyone in it. Especially Wyatt. But she hadn't reached the door before Wyatt was right behind her, putting a hand on her arm. “Lucy. Stop. Look at me.”

Trembling, Lucy turned to face him. She was crying now, silently, but she wiped away the tears and looked up to meet his gaze.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, and there was no hesitation in his words. “Nothing. You are not to blame for _anything_ that the people in this book did, distant blood relatives or not.”

She shook her head, and a few more tears slipped out. How could he say that, even after--? “My family slaughtered your people, your ancestors!” she cried. “They used them, used Brightstar blood to try to prolong their own lives!” Nausea threatened to overwhelm her again, and she shut her eyes, concentrating on her breathing.

“I read the same thing you did,” he reminded her softly. She felt his fingers on her face, smoothing away a tear, and flinched back. He sighed.

There was a pause, during which all she could hear was her own ragged breaths and pounding heart. Then Wyatt spoke again, and she opened her eyes. “Remember what I told you about my father?”

She blinked. “You, um … I think it was something about him being 'a world-class son of a bitch.'”

He smiled faintly, and nodded. “Yeah. What I didn't tell you was...” He swallowed. “He was an abuser. Oh, he never hit me – although he wasn't shy about using words to hurt me, I can tell you that much. But my mom, that's another story.”

Lucy stared at him. “He hit her?”

“Not often, but yes, he did,” he said. His voice was quiet. “When I got old enough to start thinking about it, I always wondered why she never fought back. She was strong – I knew she was. But she just took it. It was only later that I realized she was doing it to protect me.”

She let out a breath. The expression on his face right then was heartbreaking.

“I've been thinking about her, and about my father, a lot since learning about Brightstars,” he went on. “I wish I could talk to her about all of this, find out how much she knew. But she died when I was still a kid. And my grandpa died a few years after I joined the Army.”

Lucy's eyes were wide. He wasn't finished yet, though.

“I've talked to counselors,” he said, and if she had thought his expression was heartbreaking before, now she was fighting back tears again. “They've all told me that nothing my father did to my mother, nothing she suffered, was my fault. But it's hard for me to believe that.”

“It wasn't,” she said, stepping closer to him.

He nodded once, and then raised his eyes to hers. “So if that wasn't my fault – something one of my closest relatives did to one of my family members while I was there – then nothing that your relatives who you would never even have met is yours, Lucy. Don't take on their guilt. You're not like them. I'm not like my father.”

Lucy searched his face. He was totally sincere, and once again, there was no doubt or hesitation in what he said. She shut her eyes again for a few seconds, and with a tremendous effort, regained some semblance of composure. “The way you described him, I know you're not like your father. So I'll try to believe that,” she whispered.

“That's a good place to start,” he said.

She straightened her shoulders then, and cleared her throat. “I guess I should finish reading that chapter.”

“Lucy,” he said, shaking his head, “you don't have to--”

“I know,” she cut in. Her voice was still shaky, but she had to do this. “But it could help us learn more about what Rittenhouse wants. And anyway, if I stop now, I'll always be wondering whether there's something else horrible I don't know about my ancestors. I don't want to be surprised by that later. Especially not if … if someone else tells me.”

“You mean if someone else finds out who you're related to.” At her nod, he frowned. “Well, Fenril, Naomi, and Dennon are still outside, in the back, and they have been this whole time. So there's no way they could have heard any of this.”

“All right, but Fenril knows I was trying to find out about my ancestry,” she reminded him. “What are we supposed to tell him when he comes back?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don't know. Tell him you didn't find what you were hoping to find, or something.”

At that, she snorted as she walked back to the couch. “Nice half-truth there, Mr. Truth and Justice.”

“Just don't call me 'Lord Star', and we're good,” he returned.

Thankfully, the rest of the history of the House of Rittyn was less awful. Outrage against their actions in that time period was strong enough that they lost nearly all of their allies (Lucy took note of the few Houses that had stood by them), and their plans for instituting a new monarch failed. They lost a great deal of prestige and influence. Since then, the book said, Rittyn had been in a decline in the Wild Lands. They had never quite managed to lose the stain of their blackened reputation. The book did mention rather ominously, though, that a number of their mages had decided to seek their fortune in the human world, instead.

The last several pages of the Rittyn House section were taken up by a very detailed, quite beautifully drawn family tree. Lucy only skimmed the older generations. They didn't mean much to her, at least not right now. She was much more interested in the later years.

To her shock, she saw that there was plenty of space left at the end of the tree, as if leaving room for new additions. And when she looked at the latest names...

“How in the hell?!”

There were several names she recognized. There was Ethan Cahill, listed under his human name as well as under the name Ythan. An elvish name, she supposed. There was his wife – her grandmother – listed under two names, too. Benjamin Cahill was there; his elvish name was apparently just 'Benjamin'. Benjamin's wife had married in from one of the Houses that was closest to Rittyn, the House of Alvena. Intermarriages between those two Houses were extremely common, looking back through the tree. But Lucy couldn't stop to consider that fact right now. She had to finish examining these names.

Benjamin's wife was her mom, Carol Preston, who was also known as Karolina. There was a margin note indicating that Benjamin was married to a human woman, as well, though the woman wasn't named and no mention was made of any children. Karolina and Benjamin had one child (even here, there was no record of her mother having another child, Lucy thought angrily). That child was Lucy Preston, whose elvish name was Lucianne. Her birthday was recorded right under the two names.

She stared at that blankly. She was here, in this record. Even though she and Wyatt were in the past right now, eight years before she was born, she was there somehow. There was no denying her connection to Rittenhouse in either world. And not only that, she had had (would have?) another name for her whole life – one that she had never known before today.

“Okay,” said Wyatt then, observing her, “I think that's enough of this for today.” He moved the book off her lap, slowly, and shut it.

Lucy inhaled sharply, turning to look at him. “They gave me two names.”

“But you're still just one person,” Wyatt said. “The same person you've always been.”

“Am I?” She bit her lip. “I didn't know about any of this – so much of this – for so long. I probably would never have found out the truth about my fae heritage if we hadn't accidentally ended up here, or at least, not unless my _parents_ decided to tell me.” She sniffed. “I don't even know if there is anything I've chosen to do in my life that really came from me! My entire life, they've been manipulating me my entire life, keeping all these secrets--” Her voice broke.

“Come here,” said Wyatt then, opening his arms. She went willingly, and that was when she couldn't hold back her sobs any longer.

Wyatt held her close, stroking her back and just letting her cry herself out. If it bothered him at all that she was getting his shirt wet, and also touching his wings through the fabric on his back, he didn't say anything.

When she had started to calm down, he cleared his throat, still holding onto her. “You're still the same strong, stubborn, bossy, loyal, brave, good person you've always been to me, Lucy,” he declared. “I think the fact that you're so horrified by what you just read helps show that. But the most important thing is, no matter what they might want, you're the only one who gets to decide who you are.”

She sniffed and tightened her grip on him. If he only knew how much it meant to her to hear that...

Just then, they both heard sounds of conversation and doors opening and shutting from the other end of the house. Quickly, they broke apart, and Lucy wiped her face. Wyatt's eyes looked suspiciously teary, too.

The family came into the room a moment later. Lucy was very grateful that Fenril only asked, “What's wrong? Did you not find what you were looking for?” That meant she could pretty much go with Wyatt's suggested answer and say that no, she hadn't really found that. Which was true. It had been hundreds of times worse than what she had imagined finding. Naomi, however, gave the two of them a searching look. Lucy hoped that didn't mean there would be problems in their future.

The good news for the evening was that Ardan, the mage Fenril had mentioned before, would be arriving late the following morning. Lucy was pleased to hear that, as was Wyatt. They both needed to get back to Rufus (God, she hoped he was okay. What had he been eating? Had he slept in the Lifeboat?) and then get back to their present. Not that she was looking forward to figuring out how she was going to talk to her mom about any of this, when she got the chance.

~


	3. Chapter 3

~  
That night, it quickly became clear that her and Wyatt sharing a bed when both of them were awake and well was significantly more awkward. That was even with the fact that this bed was much larger than the one they had shared at Bonnie and Clyde's hideout. Lucy could feel herself blushing as she thought about that memory.

“Okay. I could take the floor?” Wyatt suggested, as they both continued to stare at the bed. “There are enough pillows that it wouldn't have to be too bad--”

“Don't be ridiculous,” said Lucy. “Are you expecting me to just be fine with you sleeping on the floor while I get an actual, comfortable bed? You don't get to pull that chivalry crap with me.”

“All right, all right, I get the point,” said Wyatt, holding up his hands and failing to hide a smile. “So what do you suggest?”

She sighed. “We're adults. We can just share it. Can't we?”

“If you're fine with that, I'm fine with that.” He cleared his throat. “But, um, in the interests of full disclosure, I was kind of hoping not to wear a shirt to bed, since it turns out it's a little restrictive to cover my wings all day. And that means we'll have to deal with, uh, more surface area that's giving off light.”

“Ah.” Lucy hadn't thought much about that aspect of it. She had been so tired the night before that she had barely noticed any effects of being next to a man who happened to be a light source. It was sweet of him to consider those implications. “Well, I guess we'll see how it goes. Maybe I can, I don't know, conjure an eye mask if I need it.”

“As long as you make me one, too, if I need it,” he said, looking relieved.

“It's a deal.”

It did, in fact, feel strange for more than one reason to get into bed next to Wyatt. The bed was a decent size, but it still wasn't that big. Lucy knew she could reach out and touch him easily, if she chose. And he could do the same. Plus, there was the fact that the light was off, but Wyatt was still glowing brightly.

“Okay, this is weird,” came his voice then, sounding chagrined. “If I could turn it off, I would. I'm sorry.”

She chuckled. “It's not exactly your fault, Wyatt. I'll survive.”

Sighing, he said, “Maybe that face mask thing isn't a bad idea, though, right?”

“I'll think about it, I promise.”

As it turned out, she fell asleep just minutes later, and slept well for several hours. Sometime in the middle of the night, though, a terrible nightmare like she hadn't had in years shook her out of her slumber.

She was back at home, back at her mom's house, but everything looked different. Wrong, somehow. The furnishings and décor were all changed. Everything was much fancier, almost gaudy in places. Her mom was there, of course-- No, it was both of her parents. She cringed at the sight of the two of them talking and laughing together. Cahill and her mother were dressed up to match their surroundings. They looked elegant and regal.

“Oh, Lucy, there you are,” said her mom, smiling and taking her hand. “Come on. Your father and I have something to show you. We've been working on it for a while.”

“I'm sure you'll find it very interesting, my dear,” added Cahill. His smile and the way he reached out to touch her face made her skin crawl. But she couldn't seem to resist. Instead, she allowed herself to be pulled along, passing by tables full of fancily-dressed people she thought she should recognize but didn't. And now the house was way too big. There hadn't always been hallways like this, had there?

Her parents pushed open a huge, heavy wooden door with a hanging tapestry on it. The tapestry had an intricate golden “R” embroidered on it, Lucy noticed. That made her feel cold all over. It meant something … something bad. She didn't want to see what her parents wanted to show her. She was utterly sure of that now. She tried to pull her hands away, but her mother and father both had a grip like iron.

“Here we are,” said Cahill a little while later, after they had walked down a poorly-lit stone hallway. He let go of her hand to take a ring of keys out of his pocket. Lucy thought to herself that this was her chance, while it was just her mother holding onto her – but as if she'd heard her daughter's thought, her mom tightened her grip until it was almost painful. Meanwhile, her father had unlocked the metal door.

Shivering, mute, Lucy followed the two of them inside the room (it was more like a dungeon, really). There was a light inside the room that was much brighter than the torches that burned at regular intervals on the wall. This flickering light was coming from--

Lucy's jaw dropped in horror. It was Wyatt, strapped to the table with his wings splayed out behind him nearly dragging on the floor. He was pale as death. But he wasn't dead. His head turned at their arrival. “Lucy,” he said hoarsely, his eyes widening. “What-- what are you doing here, with them?”

“I--” Lucy tried to say, but her voice died in her throat. There was a cage behind Wyatt, and Rufus was lying on the ground in it. He looked bruised and bloodied. If he was alive, he didn't react at all at the arrival of the two – no, _three_ Rittenhouse members. “No!”

“No, what, sweetheart?” said her mom, looking ever so slightly concerned. “We wouldn't have these two if it weren't for you. They've already been so useful to us – and to our family line. See?”

And now when she looked back at Wyatt, she saw there were lines, tubes coming out of him. They were full of red liquid. His blood. They were draining his blood. “No!” she shouted again, stepping back. “No, you-- you can't do this!” She wanted to scream it at the top of her voice, but it was like there was a heavy weight on her chest, compressing her lungs.

“Lucy, this isn't just for your mother and for me,” said her father then, taking a step closer. “This is for your benefit, too. You'll be the queen. You'll never die.”

Wyatt was staring at her accusingly now, even as his light began to dim. And then there was a pinch on her upper arm, and she looked down to see one of the lines was now attached to her. She was killing him. She was--

“No!”

Lucy sat up, her eyes flying open. But she wasn't in that horrifying dungeon anymore. There was nothing like that around her. Nothing except...

Wyatt made a faint mumbling sound next to her. She turned toward him hastily. He was asleep on his stomach, his face turned away at the moment. The light that shone from him was steady. He was alive. Not dying. If she held her breath, she could hear his quiet, regular inhaling and exhaling. He was fine.

Holding back a sob as the details of her dream came back to her, Lucy slipped out of the covers as quietly as she could, and then ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Those images... Her skin broke out in goosebumps. She barely made it to the toilet in time to throw up into it.

Once she was done, she flushed and stood up, shuddering. It had been a dream. Just a dream. She didn't have to believe any part of it. She wasn't her parents' tool to manipulate, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let them hurt her friends.

She washed her hands and face in the sink. The utter horror had started to fade by now, thankfully. She hoped her subconscious wasn't going to serve up any more nightmares like that tonight. She had the feeling she and Wyatt were going to need to be at their best tomorrow, when they interacted with this mage.

Thinking about that topic was – well, not exactly relaxing, but at least it grounded her in reality rather than in that awful dream world. Lucy took another deep breath, let it out, and stepped out of the bathroom, turning off the light as she did so.

“Lucy?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, hurrying back to the bed. She could definitely feel the early spring chill in the air now. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“'Sokay,” he murmured, and then sighed.

The pitch of his voice at this time of night was distracting. It had the potential to be dangerous for her. She swallowed and determined not to pursue that line of thought.

Of course, he wasn't going to make that easy on her. “You all right?”

When she got back under the covers and looked at him, his eyes were only half-open in the light that he was giving off. But he was still genuinely concerned. “I'm fine, Wyatt,” she told him, focusing on his concern and not the way he looked or sounded right now. “Just a, um, a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

He blinked slowly, and then lay back down. “You sure?”

“I'm sure. Thanks.”

Apparently he fell back to sleep a few seconds later. Lucy closed her eyes. Maybe she could convince herself to relax and do the same thing.

She was just beginning to drift off when the faint glow she could still see with her eyes shut got a little brighter. Confused, she opened her eyes – just in time to see a wing spread over her. Wyatt was facing her now, still asleep.

Lucy watched his face for a few breaths, and then, smiling softly, she reached a hand out from under the covers. Very gently, she touched the wing that he had spread over her. He didn't stir. His wing was soft and almost silky, like feathers. Which it could be, she supposed. Smiling again at the warmth, comfort, and sweetness of the gesture Wyatt had made unconsciously, Lucy shut her eyes again. She was asleep in seconds.

~~  
When Wyatt came awake this time, it was to a feeling of peace and contentment. It was fairly early in the morning, he could tell, but that didn't bother him. Not when he could just lie here, comfortable and right next to--

He opened his eyes suddenly. He wasn't pressed up against Lucy, exactly, but they were pretty close to each other. Much closer than they had started out last night. Right now, she was facing him, asleep, with one hand almost touching his shoulder. And more surprisingly, at some point in the night, he had apparently stretched out a wing over her. Doing this had to have pulled the covers off him partially, but he hadn't woken up.

Wyatt swallowed, captivated by the sight of her like this. He never had much opportunity to see Lucy at rest. She, Rufus, and he were all always busy in action, or at most had a few minutes to sit and regroup after a mission. But now here she was, asleep right next to him. (She had said something about a nightmare last night at some point, hadn't she? That made it even more gratifying that she was sleeping peacefully now.) If she had noticed his gesture – protective and undeniably possessive, even if it had happened while he was asleep – she hadn't minded. He felt a sudden rush of tenderness and other emotions so powerful that he found it very difficult to resist reaching out to touch her.

But before he could decide to follow through, Lucy sighed, stretched, and opened her eyes. He pulled back his hand quickly, and thought about pulling away his wing, too. He didn't want to make her feel smothered, especially if she started to remember her bad dream from last night. Plus, he couldn't help wondering if she wouldn't be reminded of how bizarre his transformation really was. Which it was.

“Good morning,” Lucy said then, yawning. She smiled a little, her expression drowsy until it sharpened as she looked at his wing that was still draped over her. Then her smile widened. “Thanks for the extra blanket last night.”

Wyatt stretched out both of his wings completely, although the right one almost hit the wall when he did that. Then he yawned and folded his right wing against his back again. “You're welcome,” he replied. She didn't seem embarrassed or creeped out at all, which was good. He made as if to lay his left wing back where it had been when they woke up. “You still cold?”

She shook her head. “Not really. But … that doesn't mean you have to stop.”

_Whoa._ If he wasn't mistaken, that comment had the potential to change the mood here quite a bit. Wyatt sat up partway, raising his eyebrows, and relaxed his wing over her. “Hmm. Stop what, exactly?”

“Keeping me warm,” she said, her tone innocent. Her expression, however, was the opposite of innocent, as she very frankly swept her eyes over his face and the rest of him.

“I see,” he replied. For himself, he was definitely warm now, and very awake, and very willing to focus more attention on her. God, she was beautiful. “Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Since I was kind of thinking you're too far away right now.”

“Oh, is that what you were thinking?” she said, as he moved closer. “That's interesting, because I was thinking something very similar.”

Wyatt grinned. “Well, then. It's settled.” Now they were inches apart, and both partially sitting up. He reached out the hand that he wasn't using to prop himself up, and laid it on the side of her face.

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “I hope you weren't planning to stop there,” she said, and now her voice was low and promising all kinds of things. Before he could even reply, she leaned in and kissed him.

Wyatt responded eagerly. Sitting up the rest of the way without breaking contact, he pulled her with him. She went along very willingly. Soon after that, they were, in fact, both pressed against each other so much that there was no risk of either of them being cold. And that included Wyatt's wings, which were now encircling Lucy completely.

It wasn't too hard to guess how things would have progressed from there if a knock on the bedroom door hadn't interrupted them some minutes later. “Apologies, Wyatt, Lucy,” came Fenril's voice. “Naomi wishes me to tell you that breakfast is almost ready, and I wanted to tell you that Ardan will be here in two hours.”

Wyatt blinked and tried to focus on something other than Lucy, as she pulled away from him. He cleared his throat and folded his wings. “Uh, thanks,” he called back to Fenril. Hopefully the man wouldn't notice anything off about his voice. “We'll be out in a few minutes.”

A few seconds later, Lucy (who had only withdrawn a few inches) groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. Then she let out a huff of laughter. “I'm glad you were able to talk to him,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to come up with any coherent words.”

“Well, it wasn't easy, let me tell you,” he said. “I didn't want to stop.” It still wasn't easy to switch gears, when what he really wanted was to... No, he absolutely had to think about other things. Now. And maybe take a shower with cold water. Lucy gave him a knowing look, but didn't say anything.

The two of them did manage to get out to breakfast in a timely fashion. Wyatt had kind of been hoping to shave that morning, before breakfast, but there was no razor in their bathroom. Before he asked Fenril about it, Lucy reminded him that male elves didn't grow much at all in the way of facial hair. Brightstars (or half-Brightstars) apparently still did, though. But Lucy told him that for herself, she didn't have a problem with some stubble. Which was something Wyatt decided he would have to keep in mind.

Naomi was quieter than usual during the morning meal. Wyatt couldn't help noticing the glances she threw at Lucy every few minutes, even as he tried to pay attention to what Fenril was telling them about the mage Ardan. Wyatt was pretty sure Lucy had noticed Naomi's actions, too. Every time she was the recipient of another look, Lucy got more and more uncomfortable. She had stopped eating, too. Finally, Wyatt couldn't take it anymore.

“All right, that's it. Fenril, I'm sorry to interrupt,” he said, just as the man was wrapping up his story about how Ardan had met Fenril's friend Sandy while Sandy was lost in the woods. Fenril stopped speaking, blinked, but gestured for Wyatt to go ahead. Wyatt turned to Naomi. He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his tone polite. “Look, I don't want to be rude or anything, Naomi, and maybe I'm just misreading things here, but – is there a problem? You keep staring at Lucy.”

Naomi had the grace to look embarrassed, even as Lucy shot him a look that he could tell was meant to be reproving although there wasn't a lot of force behind it. “I-- I'm sorry, Lucy,” said Naomi, “and Wyatt. It's just...”

When she didn't seem to want to go on, Wyatt prompted, “Please. Just tell us, whatever it is.”

Fenril, too, was focused on his wife. He looked faintly alarmed, like he never would have expected this kind of behavior from her. Which wasn't exactly reassuring.

“Very well,” said Naomi with a sigh. She put down her spoon. “I shouldn't have been nosy. But when Fenril told me about what you had been searching for last night, Lucy, I was … curious to know what you might have found. So I did a simple spell to see which pages in the _Complete History_ had been read most recently.”

Lucy inhaled sharply and stared at her plate. Wyatt clenched his jaw.

“When I saw you had been reading about the House of Rittyn, I must admit I was shocked,” Naomi went on. “I couldn't think of any reason why you would choose that particular House out of the blue. You must have had some reason to think you might be connected to it.” Then she shook her head. “But then I couldn't find your name in the family tree. It was like there were names on the tree beyond our current era somehow, but they were blurred. I couldn't read them. I've never seen anything like that before.”

_Ah._ He hadn't even considered what would happen if someone else tried to read that part, since it was obviously some kind of magic that recognized Lucy even though she hadn't actually been born yet in this current year.

Fenril was staring between his wife and their guests, his eyes wide. “Rittyn House? Really, Naomi?” His tone of horror was _definitely_ not encouraging.

“So what if she was reading that section?” Wyatt said, aware he was very close to not sounding at all polite. Almost shouting, in fact. “What the hell does it matter? Lucy is nothing like those people!”

“Wyatt,” said Lucy then, putting a hand on his arm. His left arm, which was good, since his right arm had started to heat up. He tried to bring himself under control. Magical weapons made out of light would probably not help this situation. Meanwhile, she had turned back to their host and hostess. Raising her chin, she said, “Yes, I was reading about Rittyn House, and no, that wasn't a random choice.”

He tensed again – but at least both Naomi and Fenril just seemed to be waiting for her to go on. Neither of them looked like they were planning to attack her, or anything. But it was totally up to Lucy what she wanted to tell them, of course.

“Growing up, my mother told me I had elven blood, like I said before,” Lucy explained, “but she never told me my father was an elf, too. I barely knew anything about him. But just a week or so ago, my mother told me she and I and my father are related to this … group of people. Powerful, dangerous, awful people, and the name of the group sounds a lot like the elven house I was reading about. But I know for a fact that not everyone in this group in the human world is related by blood.” She swallowed. “It's much too far-reaching and extensive for that.”

Both Fenril and Naomi looked – well, not any less alarmed. That was fair, Wyatt decided.

“Anyway, I thought there still might be some connection between the House of Rittyn and this other group,” said Lucy. “So I needed to know about them. But then I read-- I read the terrible things Rittyn has done, and it made me sick. That's why I was upset when you all came back inside last night. I don't want to have any kind of ties to people who would do … those things.”

Wyatt reached out to take her hand then, and she held onto his tightly. She wasn't crying again, but she wasn't far off from it, either.

“And you read this account, too,” said Naomi after a moment, turning to Wyatt.

“I did.” He met her gaze squarely.

Naomi looked at them both, then at her husband, and then sighed. “Well. I don't believe either of you are lying, and I don't believe you could have put a spell on Wyatt to keep him under your control without me being able to at least sense it, Lucy. It would have to be incredibly strong and therefore very obvious magic. But I was worried, knowing who your ancestors might well have been.”

Lucy went pale and dropped Wyatt's hand. For his part, Wyatt's heart was pounding, and his right arm once again started to grow warm. That was what Naomi had been afraid of – what she thought Lucy was capable of doing?

“For goodness' sake, Naomi!” Fenril broke in just then. “Can't you see you're making her feel worse? The poor girl's likely to lose her breakfast if you keep it up!”

Naomi looked down. “I'm sorry, Lucy. I should not have made assumptions.” With that, she stood up, took her plate into the kitchen, and then disappeared down the hall.

There was silence at the table for several long minutes. Then Lucy stood as well, leaving her half-eaten food on the table.

“Lucy,” Wyatt started, pushing back his chair to follow her, but she held up a hand.

“Please, just...” Without finishing her sentence, she hurried out of the room.

Fenril cleared his throat. “Wyatt, I'm so, so sorry,” he said. “I-- I never imagined...”

Sighing, Wyatt shook his head. He was still furious at what Naomi had done – but it wasn't even like it had been an unexpected reaction. “It's not your fault,” he told the other man. “But I appreciate it anyway.”

There was still about half an hour before Ardan was scheduled to arrive. Wyatt finished attempting to help Fenril clean up the table (the man had refused this time, insisting that this was the least he could do after what had happened). Then he went down the hall, and took a deep breath before knocking on the closed door of the bedroom. “Lucy?”

He heard a faint rustling from inside. Then she said, “Come in.”

Wyatt opened the door. She was sitting on the end of the bed, wearing the 1970s outfit in which she had been transported to the Wild Lands two days ago. Her face was still pale, but resolute. “You should change, too,” she said, sniffling once. “In case this mage actually can get us back to Rufus.”

He nodded, shutting the door behind him. She had a point. But he still wasn't going to let her change the subject just yet. “Are you okay?”

“I will be when we get out of here,” was her response.

Wyatt went over to where his '70s outfit was folded up, and grabbed it. “The facts aren't going to change once we get back to the Lifeboat and back to the present, you know.”

“I know,” she snapped, standing up and pacing away from him. Then she turned back to him, and lowered her voice. “I know. But … I don't really have time to try to work through all this before the mage gets here, and I feel like we're going to need to be focusing on whatever his plans are.”

He looked at her for a second, and then nodded again. “Fine.” It seemed like she knew this was only going to be a temporary delay – and hopefully she wasn't going to try to deal with it alone whenever there was a moment to begin that process.

Once Wyatt had changed his clothes, there really wasn't anything to do but wait for this mage guy. Lucy had shown no desire to leave their room – not that Wyatt blamed her. On the other hand, it was kind of awkward to be sitting with her, in their room, with nothing to do. Nothing else to occupy his thoughts except his worry about her … and the contrast of his pleasant memories of this morning, with her, in this very room.

Finally, Lucy scoffed and said, “Okay, we-- we have to talk about something to pass the time. This is getting ridiculous.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “I'm open to suggestions.”

“All right, um...” She pondered for a moment, and then fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “I don't know. What kind of music do you like?”

“What?” The surprised exclamation escaped before he could stop it.

She narrowed her eyes. “Something wrong with that question?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. He shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile. “It's just so … normal.”

At that, she returned the wry smile and said, “Well, maybe we could both use some normal right now. I know I could.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides,” Lucy went on, a little gleam appearing in her eyes, “we kind of skipped the usual first date small talk stage and went right to sharing a bed.”

He coughed. “True.” First date, huh? Sitting in a bedroom in the early 1970s in the Wild Lands was a bizarre place for that, but Wyatt wasn't going to let anyone say he couldn't make do. “So, favorite music? Well, I'd have to start with the classics, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah? What classics might those be?”

“I'm from Texas,” he reminded her. “Any guesses?”

She wrinkled her nose, and the sight was almost adorable enough to distract him from her response. “Something country?”

“Hey, now. Don't say that like it's a bad word,” he said, leaning forward. “You can't tell me you have something against Kenny Rogers. Or Johnny Cash, even though he wasn't from Texas.”

Lucy acknowledged that she did not, in fact, have anything against Kenny Rogers or Johnny Cash. “But I'm not a big country fan overall,” she went on. “Hopefully that isn't going to be too much of a problem for you.”

“No, see, that's just because you've never listened to the good stuff,” said Wyatt, even as part of him was focused on how much he liked her implication that they might spend time together in situations where they could be listening to music. Instead of saving the world and/or running for their lives, for a change. “The classics. None of that whiny stuff.”

She smiled. “Uh huh. I see. What else?”

They ended up having a really nice, strangely normal conversation from there. It was just what they both needed, Wyatt thought. Like Lucy had said. He was pretty sure they were both disappointed to have to stop, when Fenril knocked on their door to announce Ardan had arrived.

The two of them stood up, almost in unison. Lucy met his eyes. “Well, I guess it's time.”

“Yep.” He took a breath. Honestly, he had very little idea of what to expect here. But then again, after more than a dozen trips to the past, he was getting kind of used to that sensation.

As it turned out, Ardan at least looked a lot like what came to mind when Wyatt thought of the word “mage”: he was old, white-haired, and yet there was no impression of weakness along with the obvious age. In fact, the man observed them both closely with obvious intelligence as they came into the front room. His eyes widened minutely, but he didn't speak at first.

“Here they are,” said Fenril (Naomi was not there – which didn't bother Wyatt). “Wyatt, Lucy, this is Ardan. Ardan, this is Wyatt and Lucy. They're hoping you can help them get back to where they were before the trap portal brought them here.”

The mage nodded to them. “So. An elf and a Brightstar who didn't know you were an elf and a Brightstar until you were forced into the Wild Lands, hmm? Very interesting.”

“Don't worry,” said Fenril quickly, seeing their reactions, “Ardan has promised to be discreet, as well.”

“Indeed I have,” the mage confirmed. “But I must admit to plenty of curiosity as to how you two ended up living as humans, ignorant of your true identities.”

Clearing his throat, Wyatt said, “I guess you'd have to blame our parents for that.” He didn't see any reason why this guy needed to know any details. Lucy gave him a relieved glance.

Ardan chuckled. “Yes, I suppose so.” Then he looked at each of them, including Fenril. “Shall we get down to it, then?”

Wyatt certainly didn't mind getting right down to business. He had already been trying for a while not to worry about whether or not Rufus would still be where they had left him; if not, he had no idea how he and Lucy were supposed to get back to 2017.

“What do you need us to do?” Lucy asked.

“First, we'll all need to go outside and take a bit of a walk – including you, Fenril, if you can spare the time,” said the mage. “You'll be very useful in helping to set up the spell. Is your wife not available?”

“She sends her regrets,” said Fenril, avoiding Wyatt's and Lucy's gazes. “But yes, I'll be glad to help.”

Ardan raised an eyebrow at the first part of Fenril's response, but just nodded.

The spell ended up requiring them to return to the site of the trap first, which made sense. Then Ardan spent several minutes examining it, and searching for traces of the portal with his own magic. Wyatt didn't exactly enjoy being back next to the thing that had caused Lucy and him so much distress, but he was willing to wait – outside the cage – for as long as this took.

Soon, Ardan informed them that he had found enough traces of the portal that he would be able to attach his spell to them. “Then I'll connect the two of you with the spell, and it will reverse your course of a few days ago,” he said. “Unfortunately the trip will be just as unpleasant as I imagine it was coming through – though of course you won't end up in a cage on the other side.”

Wyatt recalled how that had felt – the frigid air, the intense speed – and frowned. “It'll be worth it to get back,” he said, “but yeah, can't say I'm looking forward to that part.”

“Ardan, can I ask a question before we keep going?” Lucy said at that point.

“Certainly,” he replied.

“I've, um, I haven't had much opportunity at all to interact with fae in the human world,” she said, “and neither has Wyatt, I think?” She turned to him, and he agreed. “So, I was just wondering, will we-- will we both still look like … this, when we get back?”

Wyatt stared. He hadn't even considered the possibility that he would still have these wings when he crossed the Boundary again. And hell, if Lucy still looked like she did right now, there would be no mistaking her for human, except maybe from a significant distance away. The implications of that were pretty damn serious. Continuing to do their jobs with Rufus, traveling through time – that might have to stop.

Ardan's eyebrows rose. “Ah. I can see why that would be an important question for people who have lived as humans their whole lives. And my answer is yes. To my knowledge you'll both look just about the same as you do now when you cross the Boundary. Perhaps some aspects of your appearances will be, hmm, muted, but not by much.” He looked at Lucy more sharply then. “Unless of course you put your own concealment spell on yourself and your companion. Your magic, of which you seem to have plenty, will work just fine in the human world.”

Lucy swallowed. “Okay. But I don't know anything about doing magic.”

“Trust me, Miss Lucy,” he said with a faint smile, “when a mage has as much power as I sense in you, it's really just a matter of will. Oh, there's a great deal of training that you could go through, to make your spells more precise and refined, and to teach you the finer points of control. But the most important part can't be taught. It's what you have naturally: your talent. The second most important part is bending your magical gift to your will. I don't think I'm mistaken in saying that shouldn't be too difficult for you, either.”

She didn't look convinced. “So I'll just have to … what, think about how I want Wyatt and myself to look the way we used to, before we changed?”

“Those are the basics of magic, young lady,” said Ardan. He cleared his throat. “I know you must have other questions, but I'm afraid my time with you this morning is limited. So shall we continue with the preparations?”

“Yes, yeah, of course,” said Lucy quickly. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Ardan said with a smile that felt more genuine than some of his previous ones.

After Fenril helped Ardan set up what seemed to be just ordinary stones at intervals in a circle around the cage, Ardan turned to Wyatt and Lucy. “You two will need to be on top of the cage when I start the spell. Lord Star, if you would care to assist in that?”

“Oh, uh...” Wyatt wondered how much he was blushing this time. Part of that was the term of address, but there was also the fact that in order to fly, he'd have to take off his shirt. And then hold Lucy to get her up there with him. “Yeah, sure. If that's okay with you, Lucy.”

Lucy's cheeks were also a little pink, but she just said, “That's fine.”

Quickly, trying not to feel everyone's eyes on him, Wyatt took off his jacket and shirt again. Then he gave Lucy a wry smile and said in a low voice, “I'll ask you to keep in mind that this is only going to be my second time flying, and I've never carried anyone else in the air, so it might be kind of a bumpy ride. But I won't drop you.”

She laughed once. “Well, as long as you don't drop me, I'll try to be forgiving about the rest of it.” After his somewhat sarcastic thanks, she put out her hand and added, “Here. Let me take your shirt and jacket for you.”

“Not a bad idea,” replied Wyatt. He paused for a moment, quickly running through the various positions in which he could carry her while still being able to see well. Just as he reached a conclusion, Lucy spoke up, as if she'd followed his train of thought.

“I guess I should be Lois Lane to your Superman, huh? Makes the most sense.”

He grinned. “Well, _I_ wasn't going to call myself Superman, but yeah, that was my general idea.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Come on, let's just do this. I'm ready.”

“All right.” Continuing to ignore Ardan's and Fenril's gazes as best he could, Wyatt picked her up and held her to himself. In other circumstances, he would have wanted to savor this feeling for a while. But now was not the best time for that. Clearing his throat, Wyatt spread his wings. Then, with some difficulty, he sprang into the air and took off.

Lucy tensed as they made the transition from being on the ground to in the air. He felt her grip onto his arm with one hand. “You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathless. “Yeah, just … wow.”

“I know,” he said, smiling. Once again, this was far too short a flight for his preferences – but it wasn't fair to make any of them (Rufus especially) wait any longer just so he could have fun. Besides, his wings weren't going to vanish. He could fly for a longer period of time later. So he did his best to gauge the distance, and came in for a landing on top of the cage.

As soon as Wyatt set Lucy down on top of the cage, she let go of his arms and smiled at him. “Thanks for the ride.”

“The next one will last longer,” he told her, and was rewarded by her wide eyes and an even wider smile. Then she handed him back his shirt and jacket, which he put on.

“Are you two ready up there?” called Ardan after that.

Wyatt and Lucy looked at each other. “Yes,” Lucy called back. “What do we need to do?”

“Just hold each other's hands,” was the mage's response. “That will make it easier for me to be sure I'm sending you both at the same time.”

A thought struck Wyatt then. “Fenril – thanks for everything.” His next words almost stuck in his throat, but they were still necessary. “And thank your wife, too. We're grateful for all your family did for us.”

“We really are,” Lucy agreed. “Thank you.”

The man smiled. “You're both very welcome,” he said. “Farewell to you. If you ever find yourselves back in the Wild Lands again, we-- we would love to have you over for a visit. I know Naomi would, too.”

Wyatt wasn't as sure about that last part. Then again, it was probably never going to be relevant even if they did come back to the Wild Lands. They probably wouldn't be coming back to this same year, no matter what. But Fenril didn't need to hear that. Instead, he and Lucy waved and thanked him again.

“All right,” said Ardan. “It's time. Stay still, if possible, and hold onto each other. This is going to be uncomfortable.”

Lucy seized his hand tightly. Wyatt gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Then they both looked down at where the mage was standing.

Ardan raised his arms. A second later, Wyatt felt something like a cord settle around his waist, though there was nothing to be seen there. A second after that, the cord tightened until it was almost painful. He swallowed. This was really not going to be--

Ardan spoke a word in a language Wyatt didn't recognize, and suddenly Lucy and he were jerked by the invisible cord forward and up, back into that dark, cold, airless place. He tried to gasp, but it was like his lungs weren't working. He was moving too fast. Instinctively, he wanted to extend his wings to try to slow himself down, but he managed to stop himself from following that urge.

Some seconds or minutes later, Wyatt was flung out of that in-between place, with Lucy still gripping his hand. They hit the ground, hard – but neither of them blacked out this time.

Lucy coughed next to him, and released his hand. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “I'll never complain about traveling in the Lifeboat again.”

“Me neither,” he said, coughing a few times himself. They helped each other up, and were in the process of dusting off their clothes from the rough landing when they heard Ardan's voice behind them, from the direction they had come.

“Good. You've arrived safely.”

The mage was … well, he was floating in midair, in the middle of the space where the portal had been before. It didn't look exactly the same as it had before; it looked more like a normal window now.

Lucy got over her surprise first. “Yes, we have. Um, thank you.”

After Wyatt echoed her thanks, Ardan nodded. “It was no trouble. Farewell, Lord Star. And farewell, young Lady Rittyn. I don't blame anyone for their ancestry, nor do I assume you'll follow your House's less than illustrious example.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “I hope you won't do anything that makes me regret helping you.”

Lucy took a ragged breath. Wyatt wanted to reach out for her, but he wasn't sure she would welcome that at the moment. Before either of them found words to reply to the mage, he vanished – as did the portal.

“Okay, do either of you want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

Wyatt was pretty sure later that he and Lucy had jumped in unison, and then whirled around at the same time. “Rufus!”

Their friend was standing a couple of yards behind them. He looked baffled, but he smiled when they met his gaze. And although his eyes widened at the sight of the changes they had undergone, he still opened his arms willingly for Lucy to rush forward and hug him.

~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual, since I figured we needed a bit of Rufus's POV.
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read!

~~  
Rufus almost missed the bizarre sound at first. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't that close. He had already decided the previous day that there was no point sticking around all the time by where the portal had been, in the increasingly faint hope that something would happen. So when the faint, sort of buzzing, sort of musical humming sound started up, he was writing down some random thoughts and observations in the little notepad from the Lifeboat. He was sitting at the base of a tree that gave him a good view of both the time machine and what had been the portal.

And then he finally noticed the sound. Before he could even pinpoint where it was coming from, he saw movement from the vicinity of the portal. And then...

_Oh my God!_ It was Lucy and Wyatt. It was like they had been spat out on the ground, in front of a portal that Rufus had no trouble seeing this time. Rufus started to run. They were back!

But as he got closer to his friends, Rufus was brought up short. There was a guy floating in midair, in the center of the portal. He was old, with white hair and a definite air of power (which made sense, what with the portal appearing and everything). And he was speaking audibly to Wyatt and Lucy.

Rufus didn't catch everything the mage (he had to be a mage) said, but he was pretty sure he'd heard some key parts of the last couple of phrases just fine. It had sounded an awful lot like the mage had called Wyatt “Lord Star”, and called Lucy “Lady Ritten.” As in, he could only assume, “Rittenhouse”. Which meant … Damn, he had no idea how to begin processing that.

After that bombshell, Rufus had to make a conscious effort not to fall over when his friends turned around to look at him, and he saw Lucy's face clearly. She … she had _changed._ A lot. She looked like a full-blooded elf. But it was still her, and it was still so good to be able to hug her, to know that she and Wyatt were here. Whatever had happened to them both in the last two days.

“It's so good to see you, Rufus!” Lucy said, and if her breathing was a little shaky, Rufus wasn't going to comment.

“Likewise, believe me,” he told her. “I'd tell you you have no idea how glad I am you came back, but I bet you can imagine.”

When Lucy finally let him go, Rufus turned to Wyatt with a grin. “And I did actually miss you, too, surprisingly enough.”

Wyatt laughed and pulled him in for a hug. This one was quicker, though – partially because of what Rufus felt through the back of the other man's shirt. He let go with a startled exclamation. “Whoa!”

“Oh,” said Wyatt. He cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry.”

“I think I need that explanation now,” Rufus said, “nice though it really, really is to see you two again.”

Wyatt and Lucy exchanged glances. “Well, the short version is, Lucy and I are both fae,” he said, after Lucy gave him a little nod. “I mean, Lucy's one hundred percent fae, and we're pretty sure I'm a half-blood.”

Rufus nodded slowly. “I could guess that, sort of. It was pretty obvious for you, Lucy. No offense at all. But Wyatt, you don't look...” He trailed off, and his jaw dropped. Something on his back. And the mage guy had called him “Star.” But that wasn't possible … was it?

“Let me guess,” said Wyatt, looking both amused and embarrassed as he watched Rufus's reaction. “You actually had heard of Brightstars before.”

It took him several seconds to find his voice. He was too busy being stunned by the fact that Wyatt, his friend and teammate, was a Brightstar. One of the rarest and – well, just plain _coolest_ kinds of fae in existence, although Rufus had thought from his research that they were extinct. “Yeah, I might have read a bit about them,” was what he finally managed to say.

“Really?” said Lucy, her tone gleeful. “Please, tell us all about what you've read, Rufus. Tell us about how legendary Brightstars are, and how amazing, and perfect, and heroic, and awe-inspiring, and--”

“All right, all right!” Wyatt cut in. Rufus was sure he had never seen the guy as embarrassed as he obviously was right now: red face, red ears, and everything. “I think we get the picture.”

“Seriously, though,” said Rufus. He was now trying not to stare at where Wyatt's wings had to be, and wondering what he looked like in full Brightstar mode. It was a very weird thought. “A Brightstar? How did you not know that? How did neither of you know?”

At that, Lucy's amused expression faded. “Apparently our parents hid the truth from us. Strong concealment spells, which the trap we ended up in when we went through the portal stripped off.”

“Wow.” Rufus blinked. Then he remembered the other thing he'd heard the mage say, and bit his lip. “Uh, there's no easy way to ask this, but ... I think I heard the mage, the guy who sent you back, call you something, Lucy.”

Her expression grew even more closed, and she nodded. “Yeah. Rittenhouse exists in the Wild Lands, too. It's actually the House of Rittyn, a-- a noble elven House that has a really spectacularly terrible reputation. And my parents are both part of it.”

Rufus glanced at Wyatt, and saw the tension and sympathy in his face. “Well,” he said carefully, “I'm sorry you found out more bad news about your parents. And your ancestors, too, I guess.”

She didn't reply. Rufus wasn't surprised that this would still be a sore subject for her. Although... “Wait. Did you say 'noble elven House'?”

“Yes...” She gave him an odd look.

His eyes widened. If what he'd read about elves was true, then-- “That means you have magic, doesn't it?”

At that, she smiled very slightly. “Uh, yes. Some.”

“She's being modest,” said Wyatt then. “Ardan – that's the mage who got us back here – said she had a lot.”

“Wow.” Rufus was about to ask what kinds of magic she'd done when the further implications of that hit. “Oh. Damn. So that means, Rittenhouse...”

“Some of them, at least,” Lucy confirmed grimly. “My parents, for instance.”

The idea of Benjamin Cahill with the ability to do magic did not sit well. Rufus suppressed a shudder.

“Speaking of magic, though,” Wyatt said, “maybe you could put some concealment spells on us both, Lucy, so we can finally get back to Mason Industries. I don't know about you guys, but 1973 has really lost its excitement for me. If it had any to begin with.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Yes. Concealment spells. Because I can totally do that.”

Rufus stared at the two of them. “So, what, you're just going to pretend none of what happened to you in the Wild Lands really happened? Keep it a secret from Agent Christopher? Mason?”

“Not necessarily,” said Wyatt. He sighed. “But I think we'd like the option of not immediately having everyone know a lot of it. Though I guess people might not notice me, unless I give them a reason to notice what's changed.”

Lucy agreed. Then she looked at Wyatt, looked away, and added, “Still, we definitely need to avoid putting Wyatt in extra danger from my family. From Rittenhouse.”

Wyatt clenched his jaw and looked at the ground. Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Okay. What am I missing this time?”

When Lucy explained what the two of them had learned about the reason why Brightstars were so rare, Rufus felt his stomach turn. That had not been included in any of the books he had read, though the authors had given dark hints about the Brightstars' fate. “Holy shit,” he said quietly, but with feeling.

“I know,” said Lucy. She looked sick, too.

“Yeah, it's awful,” said Wyatt, “but it was also centuries ago. So while I'm on board with the disguise idea, I don't think I'm in imminent danger of having all of my blood drained if Rittenhouse did find out about me, either.” He scoffed. “Besides, they probably wouldn't want a half-blood Brightstar, anyway. The human half has to dilute it too much for it to be useful, right?”

“Don't-- don't joke about this, Wyatt,” Lucy said. She swallowed. “Please.”

He sobered immediately. “Sorry. I'm taking this seriously, Lucy.”

Rufus was no stranger to gallows humor, but he also understood why Lucy especially wouldn't be up for it at the moment. Not on this topic. So he nudged them back onto the original topic. “Okay. So Lucy will do this spell, and we'll go from there.”

Lucy let out her breath. “Yep. One problem at a time.”

~~  
Despite Ardan's assurances, Lucy was honestly surprised her fumbling attempts at a concealment spell for herself and for Wyatt worked so well. All she did was follow Ardan's advice: she visualized what she wanted the magic to do, and then concentrated on doing it. Her eyes were shut, but she opened them at Rufus's cry of amazement.

“Whoa! You did it!” He was staring at the two of them, eyes wide. “You-- you both look exactly the same as you did before going into the Wild Lands.”

Lucy rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Good. Then let's get out of here.”

“Seconded,” said Wyatt. He was smiling at her, although he also looked faintly puzzled. That continued the entire way back to the Lifeboat (and was that ever a welcome sight to see), and even once all three of them had gotten inside.

“Wyatt,” Lucy said finally, while Rufus started up the machine and prepared for takeoff, “is something wrong? You keep looking at me funny.”

“Nothing's wrong,” he said. “It's-- it's just, when I look at you, it's like I can sort of see through the spell. Sometimes you look like human Lucy, and sometimes you look like elven Lucy.” He shook his head. “It's weird. That doesn't happen for you, does it, Rufus?”

“Nope,” said the pilot, glancing back toward them. “But then again, I'm not a Brightstar, or part Brightstar. It's supposed to be pretty hard to fool you guys, based on what I've read.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I guess that could come in handy.”

The trip back to Mason Industries, and the present, was just as unpleasant as usual. (Still less unpleasant than traveling through the portal, though.) But it was undeniably good to be back, even with all the questions that were still up in the air about the future.

The three of them didn't have a lot of time to confer before their debrief, but Rufus was already onboard with letting Wyatt and her decide how much about their time in the Wild Lands they wanted to share. They had already told a worried Agent Christopher, Mason, and Jiya that the trip had taken three days rather than the expected one. At least they were also able to confirm that the assassination that Emma had wanted to commit had been foiled, Lucy thought wryly. She had almost forgotten about their original mission by now.

“All right,” said Agent Christopher, when all three of them had changed (Rufus having taken a quick shower as well – his first in several days) and were gathered in the debrief room. Mason was there, as well, looking just as curious. Jiya had insisted on being allowed to sit in on the debrief as well, on the grounds that Rufus was going to tell her pretty much everything anyway. So she was there, too, sitting next to him. “Your mission was a success. That's good news. But in that case, what was the cause of the delay?”

Lucy glanced at Wyatt and Rufus. Wyatt gave her a little “go ahead” motion, and Rufus nodded, so she took a deep breath. “Wyatt and I were caught by a trap portal and ended up in the Wild Lands.”

“A _what?_ ” Agent Christopher said. “The Wild Lands?!”

“But-- trap portals were supposed to only work on fae,” Mason interjected. He stared at Lucy, and then Wyatt. “Aren't you two registered as majority human?”

“Yeah, we are,” said Wyatt. He cleared his throat. “Turns out that's not strictly speaking accurate, though. I'm only half.”

“And both of my parents...” She hesitated. All of the others were looking at her, but more compassionately now, knowing what they all did about her mother and father. “Both of my parents, it turns out, are elves.” With that, she shut her eyes to concentrate for a moment. She knew she had succeeded in letting everyone in the room see through her concealment spell when Jiya, Mason, and Agent Christopher all gasped. Lucy opened her eyes.

“My God,” said the agent. “How did--” She took another breath. “Magic. Of course.”

“Yes,” said Mason. Now his gaze was sharper, more intrigued. “Which means you must be descended from nobility. Isn't that right?”

Lucy wasn't ready to go into detail on that quite yet. So she just nodded, and then put the spell back on for them.

Christopher still looked amazed, but then she turned to Wyatt. “And Wyatt. You're not elvish, I take it?”

“No.” He met Lucy's eye, and she shook her head just the slightest bit. It wasn't that she didn't trust Jiya and Agent Christopher, and she mostly trusted Mason at this point – but that didn't mean someone might not accidentally let something slip somewhere. “Uh, whatever I am, it's apparently a lot more mysterious than elves. It must have been enough to trigger the trap, anyway.”

“Hmm.” The agent didn't look totally convinced, but she didn't pursue it. “How did you get out of the trap?”

From there, Lucy and Wyatt took turns telling an edited version of the story of their time with Fenril, Naomi, and Dennon. Much of this was new to Rufus, too, and he listened raptly. Lucy left out the story of her discovery of Rittyn House entirely; she still didn't know if she wanted anyone else to hear that just yet. Though she supposed Agent Christopher, at least, would need to know at some point.

Once they were done, Rufus told his story of waiting, dividing his time between the Lifeboat, the field near the portal, and making discreet trips to the nearest town to buy supplies for himself. He was pretty transparent about it all. Lucy wasn't surprised to hear that he had gone back and forth between deciding he should really give up and go back, and then changing his mind and deciding he could wait a while longer. She squeezed his shoulder. Being in that situation was not something she envied.

“Well, we appreciate you waiting around for us, man,” Wyatt said, when Rufus was finished. “I know I for one was not excited about the idea of being stuck in the '70s.”

“Yes, we're very glad to have all three of you back safe,” said Mason, and he looked like he meant it.

“ _Very_ glad,” Jiya repeated. She leaned against Rufus's shoulder for a moment.

“Agreed.” Agent Christopher smiled. Then she grew serious. “I don't mean to diminish that in any way when I say this, but now that we know about your ancestry, we're going to have to discuss the implications, Lucy. If you're a mage, that very likely means at least one of your parents is.”

Lucy swallowed. “Yes. I guess it does.”

“I don't suppose you have any inklings about your mother, whether she could have magical ability?”

Lucy could almost feel Wyatt tense next to her. She took a breath and tried to be as truthful and matter-of-fact as she could. “I can't tell you any time I ever witnessed her using magic,” she said, “but she's the only one who's been close enough to me for my whole life to be able to maintain a strong concealment spell. On me. So … yeah, I'm betting she's a mage.”

There was silence in the room for a few moments. Wyatt shifted position next to her, but she didn't look at him. She knew if she did, she was going to lose her composure. She couldn't look at anyone else and see pity in their eyes, either. Instead, she just stared at the table in front of her. But at least Agent Christopher didn't seem to want to press for more right now. “That sounds logical,” she said. “We'll be sure that's taken into consideration, if at any point your mother needs to be brought in for questioning.”

Her stomach twisted, as it always did when she imagined her mother being taken into custody. If they ever hoped to take Rittenhouse down, she knew that moment was inevitable, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy to handle. Especially now that she knew her mother was very likely to be able to fight back with magic, if she wanted to. She shut her eyes.

Mercifully, there wasn't much more to the debrief after that. And then, after Agent Christopher told them to go home, Jiya wanted to hear more details of Rufus's time waiting for Wyatt and Lucy (“What did you go buy to eat there? How comfortable can the Lifeboat possibly be, or did you sleep outside?”), which was both amusing to listen to and see, and a good way to help take Lucy's focus off her mom.

Not too long into the questions, though, Rufus begged Jiya to wait until he'd had some more sleep (it turned out neither the Lifeboat nor sleeping outside were particularly conducive to a solid night's rest) before she asked anymore. Lucy felt tired herself, even though she and Wyatt had had the benefit of a real bed to sleep in.

She was just closing up her locker when she heard his voice behind her. “Hey.”

Lucy turned. “Hey. What's up?”

“First of all, are you okay? That can't have been easy, hearing that stuff about your mom from Agent Christopher.” He was leaning against the opposite bank of lockers, watching her in concern.

She tried for a smile, and mostly succeeded. “Yeah. I mean, it wasn't easy, but it isn't like I wasn't expecting it, either.”

“Still...” He took a step away from where he'd been leaning, moving closer to her. “It's a lot to process.”

“Yeah. It'll take a while, I'm sure.” Lucy cleared her throat. “But I'd really rather not start all of that right now. Did you have something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yeah. I was just going to ask,” he said, “what your plans are for the rest of the evening. Rufus says he and Jiya are planning on takeout at her apartment.”

The look he was giving her right now reminded her a lot of the way he had looked at her this morning (had it only been that short of a time ago?). Lucy smiled, and then dropped her gaze. “I don't have any plans.”

“Good.” Wyatt took a step closer. God, he looked good. “Then what do you say we have that first date you were mentioning earlier? I'm sure we can think of other things we still haven't talked about, besides music tastes.”

Lucy closed the distance between them and took his hand. She wanted to say yes immediately, but there was one thing she had to say first. And she wasn't looking forward to it. Part of her wanted to just pick up right where they had been interrupted by Fenril this morning. “Can I ask you something first, before I say yes?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Sure.”

“Are you...” She sighed. There was no way this wasn't going to kill the mood. But maybe she could come at it in a better way, at least. “If we're going to do this – which I really want – I have to know your answer to one question: what would you do if we went on a mission, and came back, and somehow Jessica was alive?”

His eyes went wide, and then he swallowed. The grief that she had seen so often in his face returned, and he took a deep breath. “I've thought about that,” he admitted, his voice low. “And my answer is, I don't know exactly what I'd do. I know I'd need to find out how that was possible, what we'd done to change my-- our past, and I'd need to learn as much as I could about what her life had been like these past seven years. And I guess … there's even still a possibility we'd still be married. I'm not sure how I'd react to that, though, since I've been living my life with her gone for so long.”

Lucy's heart sank, and she hated herself for how selfish that was. But he wasn't done, and he didn't let her let go of his hand. “Lucy, I meant what I said last month,” he told her. “I want to be open to other possibilities. I want to move forward, focus on the future. With you.”

She bit her lip. “Even if Jessica comes back?”

“I know I just said that's still a possibility,” he said, “but I can't hold myself hostage to it. I don't want to. It's-- it's not good for me. And it's not good for us.” When she looked up at him, his eyes were warm. “You are what I want. So if I tell you I'm not going to give up on us, even if the impossible happens, will you accept that?”

Lucy searched his face for a few seconds, feeling absurdly like she might start crying. She believed him. He didn't lie to her. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'll take that.”

“Then we're on for dinner?”

At his almost flippant follow-up question, Lucy laughed. “Yes.”

“Excellent.” He grinned, and then pulled her a little closer to his side. “So let's go.”

“Whoa,” she protested lightly, as he made to leave. “In a hurry, are we?”

He gave her another heated look. “Well, we've waited too long already, don't you think?”

It was difficult to argue with that. In answer, Lucy hurried to outpace him on the way to the door. Not that her being ahead of him lasted very long.

~  
Two days after their return from the Wild Lands and 1973, Lucy was finishing up breakfast with Wyatt at his apartment when her phone rang. She picked it up – and froze. Her mom was calling. For the first time in more than two weeks.

“It's my mom,” she told Wyatt, when he asked if she was going to answer that.

He raised his eyebrows and hurried back to the table from the kitchen. Then he said, “You know what Agent Christopher told you to do whenever your mom called next.”

The ringing stopped, and a missed call notification popped up on the screen. Lucy ran a hand through her hair. “I know.” After a brief pause, Lucy took a breath and called the number she'd been given for this situation, nearly a month ago.

A few minutes after that, the Homeland Security tech told Lucy that the surveillance device was live. “You can proceed with the call back,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Lucy automatically, then winced. “I mean, I'll call again once I'm done talking with-- my mother.” This whole thing set her teeth on edge. But she had to do it.

Wyatt covered her hand with his for a moment as she initiated the return call to her mom. “You can do this,” he whispered, and then gave her space. She gave him a grateful glance as her mom answered.

“Lucy?”

“Hi, Mom,” she said, willing her voice to stay steady as tears pricked at her eyes. Even with all the terrible secrets she had learned about her mother and herself, Lucy still missed her. Missed hearing her voice. “I'm, um, I'm sorry I missed your call just a minute ago.”

“That's all right, honey,” said her mom. “Thanks for calling back. I-- I know … things have been difficult.”

That was an understatement. Lucy shut her eyes, remembering the shouting match they had had last time she'd seen her. That had been a day after her mom had revealed her own Rittenhouse connection. Lucy had come back to her mom's house to pack up all her things, to tell her that yes, she had broken things off with Noah, and no, she wasn't interested in hearing _anything_ about how she should just give Rittenhouse a chance to explain themselves to her. Her mother had called her unreasonable and short-sighted. They hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other on the phone (and none in person) since. That was despite Agent Christopher's hopes that Lucy might coax her mother to reveal her father's location, or any other Rittenhouse secrets.

“Yeah,” Lucy replied. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I was hoping we might have lunch together today,” her mom said. “Just you and me, at whatever restaurant you'd like.” She took a breath, and Lucy could hear the way it caught just slightly. “Just to talk, sweetheart. Please.”

Lucy swallowed. She hated to hear her mother beg. But if this was all still part of Rittenhouse's attempts to manipulate her, to get her to come around, she had to stay firm. “Talk about what?”

“I'd like the chance to apologize, for one thing,” was her mom's surprising response. “I-- I shouldn't have sprung all that on you at once, Lucy. And I shouldn't have expected it to go over well. Your father and I, we don't want to drive you away. We don't want you to feel forced into anything.”

At that, Lucy snorted, and any sympathy vanished. “'Feel forced'? Really, Mom? When you and your _friends_ have been planning my entire life up until this point?”

“We have not--” Her mom sighed. “I don't want to fight with you. Not over the phone, and not over lunch, either. Will you please give me a chance to say I'm sorry, Lucy? And explain at least some of how I see things?”

Frowning, Lucy turned to face Wyatt. He had been listening silently to her half of the conversation (and probably some of the other half as well, since it wasn't hard to overhear) this whole time. Now he mouthed, “Say yes.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows. He wanted her to do this – to go spend time with her mom, when she had lied to her about so much?

“You won't be alone,” he whispered. Then he looked down, but met her eyes again after a second. “It could be useful.”

He was right, of course. Lucy was sure Agent Christopher would agree. Sighing, Lucy said, “Fine. If it's just you and me, fine. I don't want my father anywhere near us.”

“Just the two of us,” agreed her mom. “Thank you. Where would you like to eat?”

After another minute or so of conversation, they had settled on a place and a time. Lucy hated herself for the fact that she was actually looking forward to seeing her mother – and at the same time, she was trying to use her to gather information on Rittenhouse. But she managed to end the call convincingly, she thought.

“Okay,” said Wyatt, once she had hung up. “We need to talk to Agent Christopher, and work out how we're going to do this.”

Lucy nodded, and decided again that she could be mostly okay with these arrangements being made in consultation with Homeland Security. If it could really help take out Rittenhouse, she was willing. That didn't mean she was ever going to get used to this feeling, though. At least this meeting should involve very little risk of making her mom feel like she needed to use any magical attacks on anyone. She hoped.

At two minutes to noon, Lucy got out of her car in front of a cafe she and Amy used to eat at often with their mom, more than a year ago (and in a long-gone timeline). She took a breath. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to choose this place. The memories were already threatening her composure. But it was too late to change her mind now; Agent Christopher already had a team stationed in and around the restaurant, and Wyatt was waiting in the bookstore next door. He had insisted on being a part of this operation – not that Agent Christopher had needed much persuading. They would all be listening in via the tiny little wire under her shirt.

Squaring her shoulders, Lucy locked her car door and went inside the cafe. Her mother was there already, of course. “Lucy,” she said, smiling and standing up from the little table she had claimed. “There you are.”

“Mom,” said Lucy, giving her a strained smile in return. She went over to her and allowed a hug, though she didn't return it very enthusiastically.

As the two of them sat down, Lucy suddenly felt an odd sensation, like something had brushed over her face and body. She looked up. It had come from her mom. Her mom, whose eyes were now wide and staring at her daughter. When Lucy reached out with her magic, it was immediately easy to sense that of her mother – and she could see under the concealment spell, too. There were the green eyes, pointed chin, pointed ears, and high cheekbones that Lucy herself was still getting used to in the mirror. There were fewer marks of age, too.

“Oh,” breathed her mother, and Lucy could tell she was looking under Lucy's concealment spell, too. “Oh, my. When did you go to the Wild Lands, sweetheart?”

Lucy gripped the armrests of her chair. How much could she say in this situation? How much should she say? “There was a trap portal,” she said at last, after a long pause. “Not too long ago.”

“A trap portal?” Her mom now looked alarmed. “Oh, Lucy. How awful.” She blinked rapidly. “I'm so sorry that you found out that way.”

“You mean, instead of by you telling me?” she couldn't keep herself from shooting back, although she did keep her voice low. “Like all the other long list of things you hid from me?”

To Lucy's faint surprise, her mother didn't take the bait. Instead, she sighed heavily and looked down. “I'm sorry, honey. I know. At very least, you should have known about your true heritage a long time ago.”

That was … gratifying. And a little ambiguous; was she talking about her elvish heritage or her Rittenhouse heritage? Or both? Lucy licked her lips, mindful of those who were listening in (and glad whatever magic her mom had just done had apparently not revealed the wire). “Well. Thank you for that.”

“You escaped the trap, though, obviously,” her mom went on. There was pride in her voice and expression now. “And you've figured out a little bit about how to use your magic. That's wonderful.”

Before Lucy could reply to that, a waiter came over and asked if they were ready. Lucy dredged up a polite smile and asked for a few more minutes to decide, and her mother echoed the request. As soon as the waiter had left, Lucy said, “Yes, I escaped, with help from some random passing elves. I couldn't have gotten out by myself. If that family and Wyatt hadn't been there, I have no idea how long it would have taken me to even think about using magic.”

“Wyatt?” Her mom sat forward. “Your soldier teammate. He was trapped as well?”

Lucy bit back a curse. She hadn't been planning to reveal anything about Wyatt's transformation, or even that he had been with her in the Wild Lands. But now her mom knew he had, and that he must have significant fae heritage since the trap portal had caught him. Denying it now wasn't feasible, though. Not when her mom had seen her reaction. “Yes,” she admitted.

“But he's not elvish.”

Lucy searched through the menu in front of her, though her appetite had been almost completely overwhelmed by anxiety. “No,” she said. “But I'm not here to talk about Wyatt, Mom.”

“Right. I know. Sorry.”

They ordered their food then. Once the waiter left again, Lucy took a breath and met her mother's gaze. “So. You had some things you were going to say to me.”

“Yes, I did.” Her mom took her own deep breath. “Let me start with saying I'm sorry I scared you, that night when you first came to me about going back in time. I hope you know I never, ever want to scare you, sweetheart.”

Lucy nodded slowly. That, she could believe. “Okay.”

“I also want to apologize for letting things get so heated last time we talked. Beyond that, I wanted to tell you a little bit of my personal history with Rittenhouse,” she went on, “if you'll let me do that without interrupting. And if you'll try to keep an open mind.”

This was not as easy to agree to. In fact, Lucy had to clear her throat and say, “I'll listen. I won't interrupt. But I'm not so sure about the last part.”

Her mom looked ever so slightly amused. “Huh. I appreciate your honesty, I guess.”

When the food arrived some minutes later, Lucy almost didn't notice. She was too absorbed in the story her mom was telling, of her history with Rittenhouse (although Lucy noted she avoided saying the name as much as possible). It was just too bizarre, to hear the woman she had always loved, admired, and wanted to be like, talking about how Rittenhouse had been a guiding force in her life. How her own parents had told her about her heritage when she had been barely out of girlhood, and told her she was going to be a special, important part of Rittenhouse's plans.

Once she was done, Lucy looked down at the salad on her plate. She stabbed a few lettuce leaves with her fork, and tried to swallow down a mouthful. It wasn't easy. Hearing her mom's history with Rittenhouse, right from the source, made it all too real. She couldn't pretend her mom might be some kind of bystander in this. Even the few details she'd just heard made it very clear that her mother was a key player in Rittenhouse's plans. Whatever those might be.

“So?” said her mom just then. “Did you manage to keep an open mind at all, honey?”

Lucy set down her fork. “When you say your parents told you you were an important part of … the group's plans, what did they mean? And what did you mean, when you said I was almost like royalty?”

“We have time to get into all of that later,” was the frustrating response, although at least she didn't look at all suspicious about Lucy having asked. She smiled. “For now, suffice it to say, think about the fact that almost all the members of our group you've ever met, throughout history, were men. Do you think that means the women aren't important in the organization today?”

A cold feeling settled over Lucy. How had she never even considered that fact? How had none of them considered it? “No, I don't think that,” she told her mom.

“Good.” Her mom patted her hand. “I'd hope you know me well enough to know that was unlikely.”

Somehow, Lucy ate most of her lunch without choking or feeling too ill to continue, but it was a struggle. Her mom either didn't notice how her daughter was feeling, or decided it wasn't important. Instead, she asked a few general questions about whether Lucy had found a decent place to live, and if she had been staying safe at work. Lucy was able to answer, just as generally, without feeling like she was giving anything important away. That, at least, was a relief.

After about two hours, Lucy was spared having to use an excuse to get away (work calling her in was the best she had come up with ahead of time) by her mom sighing and summoning the waiter. “Well, I'm sorry to cut this short, Lucy,” she said, “but I've got to get back. Department head meeting.”

Lucy felt a brief pang. That had been her life, not all that long ago. She smiled, and said with all sincerity, “Say hi for me.”

“I will,” said her mom, returning the smile. Then, after she had handed the waiter her credit card and the man had left, she said, “This was nice, sweetheart. Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

Nodding, Lucy twisted her hands together. It had only been nice in a few tiny ways, for her. Mostly it had been torturous. “Yeah.”

“Maybe I'll see you again soon?”

Lucy raised her eyes to her mother's hopeful ones. “Maybe,” she said, almost inaudible. She cleared her throat. “Bye, Mom. Thanks for lunch.”

“You're welcome, honey. Any time.”

Lucy left the restaurant then, looking straight ahead until she'd gotten to her car. That was when she allowed herself to look up at the bookstore where she knew Wyatt was still waiting. But it was only a quick glance; he was supposed to wait until her mother left and she left before leaving, to avoid attracting any attention to himself. So Lucy let out a breath and got into the car. She would drive back to the apartment she had found after she moved out of her mom's, and wait for Wyatt there. Wyatt, and most likely Agent Christopher, as well. Which wasn't really a relaxing thought. Maybe the two of them could just call her for the debrief, instead of having her come over.

~  
That night, Lucy had the strangest dream she'd ever had in her life. She was still lying in her bed, but she was also somehow floating in a bizarre, dark, formless place. She could hear odd snatches of voices that she thought should have been familiar, but she never picked up enough to recognize them or really understand what they were talking about.

And then, suddenly, her mother and father were there, talking to each other. She could almost get glimpses of them now and then, though at first their words were indistinct. They were mostly still invisible, though, in the blackness. She could tell they weren't really all that close to each other – not that that impeded their conversation.

“--hasn't been confirmed yet, but that shouldn't be too difficult to do. We'll just have to arrange for more pointed surveillance.”

Lucy frowned and listened harder. This was important. She could tell that, too, somehow.

“No, it shouldn't be too hard,” agreed Cahill. “Ideally we can do this without even having to spook the man.”

“Imagine it, though.” Her mom sounded thrilled. “If it's true...” Suddenly she trailed off, and Lucy knew she'd been noticed a moment before her mom said, “Lucy. Well, this is a surprise.”

It was a surprise to her, too. But Lucy decided she might as well go with it, though she still didn't really understand what was going on. “What are you two talking about?” She'd meant to sound firm, and suspicious, but she wasn't sure that had carried through. To her own ears (was she really even speaking out loud?), she sounded like a little girl.

“Good evening, Lucy,” her father's voice said. “Maybe it's a good thing you've joined us. There's no need for us to hide how pleased we both are about you having begun to reach your true potential, after all. It's wonderful to see. We're also very glad to have learned this revelation about your friend Wyatt Logan. What a find!”

Lucy gasped. She wanted to flee, to break off this contact and never come back – but she needed to know what they knew, first. What they wanted with him. She had to--

“Oh – sweetheart, no,” said her mom just then. She sounded horrified and almost amused at the same time. “ _No._ That way of thinking died with those misguided members of our family tree. None of us would dream of harming a Brightstar, much less outright murdering him. So you can stop worrying about that right now.”

She calmed herself, just a fraction. She didn't think her mom was lying. But that didn't mean there wasn't anything else to worry about.

“On the contrary,” Cahill was saying then, “we want your Brightstar to thrive, Lucy. Having him at your side when you take up your rightful position would do more to legitimize you than almost anything our House could dream up.”

“And he'd make a wonderful addition to the bloodline,” her mother chimed in. “Not a mage like Noah, but still—”

Lucy's dismay and disgust had risen so much by this point that she couldn't stand it. She fled. Without knowing how, blindly, she ran from her parents' machinations until she came awake next to Wyatt with a gasp.

It wasn't a dream. That was what kept running through her mind as she tried to breathe. It hadn't been just a dream. Frantic, she turned over and pushed at Wyatt's shoulder. “Wyatt!” she said, her voice strangled. “Wyatt, wake up! We have to move, we have to get out of here right now!”

He mumbled something, but when she shoved at him again, he woke up. “Lucy? What's going on?”

“I did something,” she told him. There were tears in her eyes now, but she refused to let them fall. “I didn't mean to, but I did. I told them – or they found out somehow, anyway, and I confirmed it for them. And okay, they might not want to kill you and steal your blood, but they're still going to use you, they'll mix you up in all this, and you won't be able to get out. It's my fault, all of it is my fault! But if we leave right now, maybe-- maybe you can, I don't know, leave the country, find somewhere safe--”

“Lucy!” He had sat up while she babbled, and now he was holding her shoulders, firm but not rough. “Stop. Take a breath. Tell me what's going on.”

She blinked at him, and one tear escaped. “It wasn't a dream. I-- I was kind of asleep, but it wasn't a dream. I know it really happened.”

He didn't dismiss this, at least. “Okay. What was it that really happened?”

Lucy gave him a halting description of the odd experience she'd had. She made sure to include all of the details of what her parents had said about him, even though doing so made her voice shake. “That's when I – left, I guess. I don't know what else to call it. And I woke up. But Wyatt, I'm not going to let them do this to you,” she finished, her voice no longer shaking. It was hard, and full of resolve. “Rittenhouse – my _parents_ – do not get to manipulate you like they've tried to manipulate me. That's why we need to leave. Or you do, anyway.” They wouldn't let her leave. The thought made her shudder. That was all the more reason for Wyatt to get out while he still could.

Wyatt was silent for a moment. Then he slid a hand down her arm so he could take her hand. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me,” he said, “and I appreciate the apology, although it sounds to me like you had almost no control over the situation, so I don't blame you in the least. But I'm sure Rittenhouse would have found out about my true nature sooner or later, no matter whether or not you were there to accidentally confirm it tonight.”

“Maybe, but--”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “Lucy, I was already mixed up with Rittenhouse before now. I'm sure they've been watching me for a long time – at least since Agent Christopher brought me in on this whole thing.”

Lucy stared at him. “That is not the same thing, Wyatt! Being surveilled is not the same as-- as being made into a key part of these people's plans!”

“I know,” he said. “But now we know about those plans. I'm not going to be blindsided. Plus, it sounds like I can now join you and Rufus in the group of people Rittenhouse has a reason to want to keep alive. That's not nothing. That's something we can use.”

She gave a reluctant nod at that, but then had to protest further. “But they're trying to interfere with-- with us.” Her voice was quiet now, but no less forceful. “I hate that. I despise that, so much.”

There was anger on his face now, which she knew was not directed at her. “Of course I agree with you. There's no way in hell we're going to just sit back and let them do what they want with us.” Then he touched her face. “But Lucy, even if we did run, where would we go? We can't just leave Rufus to deal with tracking down the Mothership all alone.”

That was hard to argue with. Lucy sighed and lay back down. Wyatt followed, and she quickly closed the distance between them so she could wrap her arms around him. “I just … I'd never forgive myself if those _people_ ever did anything to you. Even if it wasn't really my fault, it would always feel like I should have done more to stop it.”

He echoed her sigh. “I know all about that feeling,” he said, holding her close. “Been there, done that – and if anything ever happened to you, I'd feel the same again.”

She shut her eyes. That, she had no difficulty believing.

Tomorrow, she would see if she could research more about the abilities of mages, and at least identify what it was she had done tonight. Then she could work on making sure it didn't happen again, unless she wanted it to. Having a defined step to take to protect herself and Wyatt felt good. Maybe she would be able to relax and go back to sleep after all.

~


	5. Chapter 5

~~  
Two Weeks Later

Wyatt didn't want to open his eyes. He could already feel the headache, even at the edges of consciousness – and besides, there was something really bad he was going to have to face when he woke up. But at the same time, if he didn't wake up, something else bad was going to happen. Or might already be happening.

His eyes opened. At first, that didn't seem to change much; wherever he was, it was dark. And cold, he noticed next. And...

With a jolt of panic, he sat up. The pain in his head increased hugely, as he had expected, but he almost didn't notice. He was too busy trying not to freak out at the fact that he was in a dungeon. It was small, and dark, and very, very enclosed. All things that Brightstars really hated.

As he forced himself to breathe regularly instead of hyperventilating, letting his eyes adjust, Wyatt glanced around again – and saw Rufus at the other end of the dungeon (not that it was large enough to have another end, a part of his brain pointed out helpfully). He was lying on his back, not moving.

“Rufus!”

There was no response, even when Wyatt rushed over and repeated his friend's name. His eyes were closed, but – thank God, Wyatt could feel a strong pulse when he checked. On the other hand, by the faint glow he was using to see by, it looked like there was a nasty gash on Rufus's head. It was bleeding heavily.

“Shit.” This was bad. Wyatt looked around again, but there was literally nothing else in this place with them. Just a cold stone floor, a tiny little barred window near the ceiling on one side (no, there was no need to focus on just how tiny it was), and a solid metal door. Just in case, Wyatt stood up and went to the door. When he pushed against it, it barely moved.

Lucy. Wyatt shoved at the door again, with all his strength. It rattled a little bit, but that was it. They had Lucy. They had her, and he and Rufus had been knocked out and thrown into this hole in the ground, practically buried alive, no way out, the weight of the walls crushing them--

His panicked, desperate thoughts were interrupted by a faint groan from behind him. Rufus. Taking a shuddering breath, Wyatt went back to crouch down next to his teammate. “Rufus? Can you hear me?”

That head wound really looked serious. Rufus stirred, and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn't wake. Wyatt frowned and looked down at his own shirt. Maybe if he tore off part of it, he could at least...

That was when two things occurred to Wyatt at the same time. The first one was that the faint glow was coming from him. Of course. They weren't in the Wild Lands, but he had already discovered that in the absence of other light sources, he still glowed a little bit at night in the human world. He took a deep breath.

The second thing was that he had a better way than a makeshift bandage to help Rufus. Or at least, in theory he did. There was no way to know how potent the blood of a half-Brightstar was, but there was also no reason not to try it. Rufus needed his help. He was badly injured. Besides, he wasn't even conscious, so Wyatt didn't have to deal with the fact that this was, undeniably, going to be awkward.

It was also a good way of distracting himself from the claustrophobia that was lurking. So with a moment of concentration, Wyatt produced his blade, squinting in the brightness of its light until it dimmed. Then, although he hadn't known ahead of time that he could do this, he shrank the blade to a smaller size. It was more like a dagger now. This task required more precision than a full-size sword would provide.

“Okay, here goes,” he whispered to no one in particular. Then he gritted his teeth as he made a small cut in the palm of his left hand. Blood welled up immediately. He reabsorbed his blade first, and then moved his hand to drip some of the blood over Rufus's head wound.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, except Rufus twitching once. Wyatt closed his hand, watching and holding his breath. Then the gash started to heal over, and then it shrank, and then everything but a smudge of dried blood disappeared. All in a matter of seconds. _Whoa._

A moment later, Rufus sighed and opened his eyes. “What--?” He stared around until he saw Wyatt. “Wyatt. Whoa. You're – kind of glowing.”

“Uh huh,” said Wyatt, smirking. His hand hurt, though not as much as it had when he first made the cut. “That's what I do when it's dark. Remember?”

“Right.” Rufus sat up with a faint groan. “Where are we?”

“Still in the fort somewhere. I don't know exactly,” Wyatt answered. The claustrophobia was there, waiting for its chance to take control of him again. He shook his head. “It's, uh, a dungeon, though. As I'm sure you can tell.”

“Yeah.” Rufus sighed. Then his eyes widened, and he put a hand to his head. “Wait. I remember someone hitting me with a rifle butt – or I guess, I remember someone was about to do that, and then they must have knocked me out. But...” His hand came away with no blood on it.

“How are you feeling now?” Wyatt asked. “No headache?” His own was mostly gone, thankfully.

“None,” said Rufus. He looked baffled. “I don't...”

“Good.” It had worked, then, half-blood or not.

Rufus was quiet for a minute, frowning in confusion. Then he focused on Wyatt's closed left fist. “Hey. Is that blood?”

“What?” Wyatt opened his hand. There was still a cut there, but it had already healed over. That fit with how quickly he had healed from minor injuries ever since his transformation.

Eyes wide again, Rufus looked from Wyatt's hand to his own, which he had used to feel the area where his wound should have still been. “Did you-- Wyatt, did you _heal_ me?”

Shrugging, Wyatt turned his hand over and looked at a spot on the ground near where Rufus was sitting. “You were unconscious, and bleeding a lot. I had a way to help.”

“Oh, I'm not complaining,” Rufus said hastily. He let out an incredulous sounding laugh and rubbed that hand over his head. “I'm just, you know, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my friend used his magical blood to heal my head wound. And also, in case I forgot the other crazy aspect of this, we're currently both in the early 1800s.”

“Yeah, there's that, too.” Wyatt smiled briefly, but it faded. “I don't know where they took Lucy.”

Rufus grew serious as well. “Yeah.” Then he shivered and looked around their prison cell. “Maybe she'll be able to use her magic, get herself out of wherever they took her.”

That hadn't occurred to him, somehow. It was a comforting thought – as long as she wasn't overwhelmed by sheer numbers. This was an army fort, after all. “Maybe.”

There wasn't a whole lot for the two of them to talk about after that. Rufus tried the door for himself, with as little result as Wyatt had encountered. Then he came to sit next to Wyatt against the back wall. “I guess we could try to sleep?”

Wyatt shook himself out of the beginning stages of panic again. If only this room was just a little bigger... “You can if you want,” he replied. “I-- I don't think I'm going to be able to relax enough for that.”

Although he wasn't looking at him, Wyatt could feel when Rufus turned to look at him. “Right,” he said, after a pause. “Sorry, man. This must be extra terrible for you.”

“It's not great,” he admitted. He considered and discarded the idea of using his blade to try to hack through the door; something told him such an attempt would just end up hurting him, magic or not. And he was going to need to conserve his strength if he was going to wait out any significant time in here.

Silence fell for another short while. Wyatt did his best to distract himself by thinking about other things. Like Lucy. But that was only partially successful. His worries about her safety right now were too strong for that to be a calming topic.

“Okay, um,” said Rufus, as Wyatt's breathing started getting more erratic again, “what's your favorite movie? And when did you first see it, and how many times have you seen it?”

Wyatt gave him a look, oddly reminded of Lucy breaking the tension in a similar way back when they were at Fenril and Naomi's house in the Wild Lands. But this was even less like a date than that had been, for a whole lot of reasons. Still, it could help. “Well,” he said, “I have a feeling you'll agree that there's a certain James Bond movie that's hard to beat – other than some issues with the writing of the Bond girl.”

Rufus laughed. “Yep. I'll agree with both of those statements. Not that there isn't a recurring issue with the writing of Bond girls.”

“True enough.” Wyatt pushed aside a painful memory of Jess saying something along those lines, once when they were watching one of the classic Bond movies together. “But anyway, _Weapon of Choice_ isn't actually my favorite movie of all time.”

“What a surprise,” Rufus said with another chuckle. “So which film holds that title?”

Their discussion lasted a decent length of time, and was absorbing enough that Wyatt felt fine while they were talking. But when that topic had run its course, the weight of the walls and rock around them came rushing back. Every time this happened, Wyatt noticed that he had a harder time fighting it off. He was starting to sweat now.

Rufus doggedly came up with a few other conversation topics. But by the third one, Wyatt was up and pacing, occasionally starting to spread his wings before he remembered there was no point and that they would just get tangled in his shirt. He stopped and stared up at the pathetic little window above them. Even if he flew up there, it wouldn't help. Unless maybe his blade could cut through iron … but it was still such a small opening. God, there was no way out, was there?

“Hey. Wyatt. Did you hear me?”

Wyatt blinked. His arm had started to heat up, as if he was going to draw his sword. He turned toward the door, and strode the few paces it took to get there. Maybe if he tried the hinges, that would make more sense.

Rufus gasped when Wyatt produced his sword. “Dude.”

Wyatt was only sort of paying attention to Rufus's reaction. He made the blade a little smaller, and then aimed the tip at one of the hinges. They were old, and a little rusted. Maybe this could work. Maybe he could get out of here after all.

“Do you think that'll work?” Rufus asked, from right behind him.

“I … don't know,” he answered, distracted. “But I have to try.”

And he did – for what felt like at least an hour. Every time he considered giving up, his sword would make some tiny progress in prying off the hinge, or moving the bolt. It was exhausting, though. Sometimes the sword would slip out of place right when he thought he was accomplishing something, just because his arms were getting so tired.

“Wyatt. Wyatt, listen!”

Finally, Rufus's shouting got his attention. Wyatt stopped, turning to face his friend. He was trembling, he noticed. That was weird. “What?”

“I think someone's coming,” Rufus said, worry plain on his face. “It sounds like marching. Maybe … maybe you could stop working on the door for a minute or two, just in case.”

Wyatt listened. Over the sound of his ragged breaths, he could hear what Rufus was talking about. He nodded once, and backed away from the door. He didn't want to put his blade away, though. He needed to be ready, in case they tried to come in. The only problem was, now that he had stopped working on the door, his muscles seemed to have stopped working, too. It was so hot in here. In this tiny, airless cell. He staggered.

“Whoa-- no!”

Before he collapsed, Rufus was there to catch him. Wyatt grabbed onto Rufus's shoulder, blinking. His vision was getting kind of blurred. But he could still feel the too-small size of the room. He grimaced. Why couldn't he take a full breath? He needed to.

“That really doesn't sound good,” said Rufus then. Possibly referring to the way he was breathing. “Try to hold on, all right? Please.”

Rufus sounded really upset. Wyatt wanted to ask why, but he had to focus on breathing, instead.

Just then, the door to the dungeon rattled, and then burst open. “Wyatt! Rufus!”

Wyatt took in a labored breath. It was Lucy. She was here. She looked like she was fine, too, other than also looking as upset as Rufus now.

“Oh, my God. Wyatt!”

He tried to smile, and thought he might have succeeded. “Lucy. You … okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said quickly, moving to stand in front of him. He felt her hand on his face for a second. “Don't worry about me.” Then she turned to Rufus. “We have to get him out of here. Now.”

“I figured,” said Rufus.

Wyatt knew he should be helping them, doing his best to propel himself forward. But the only thing he managed was to reabsorb his sword. Anything beyond that was apparently too much.

At least he kept himself conscious as Lucy and Rufus supported him between the two of them, out of the dungeon (some relief, although the passageway was still too narrow and dark), up the stairs, and then finally, finally out into the night air. Immediately, he could breathe again. The heavy weight that had been pressing down on him was gone. His first full breath brought on a coughing fit, which wasn't fun – but the relief was still enough that he almost didn't mind. He was glad Lucy and Rufus had set him down while he coughed, instead of still trying to keep him upright.

And once he stopped coughing and they helped him back up, he was more aware of the fact that Rufus and Lucy had been talking for most of the time since they left the fort, too. Right now they were discussing how far it was to the Lifeboat from here, and whether the soldiers in the fort would wake up before they got there. Which didn't make any sense to Wyatt – why would they be asleep?

He could ask them about that, he realized. “Why are they asleep?”

His voice sounded odd, but it was audible. Rufus and Lucy both stopped walking in surprise. “Wyatt,” said Lucy, sounding pleased. “You must be-- are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he said. He knew he still needed their help to stay upright and moving, but he was alert and no longer in the grips of a phobia, so that had to be better. “Why are the soldiers in the fort asleep? How did you get to us?”

“I made everyone fall asleep, as soon as I figured out where you two were being held,” she replied. Now she sounded almost embarrassed. “It-- it was the best way I could think of to not change history too much, but also make sure no one would be able to stop me.”

He smiled. “Wish I could've seen that.” The mental picture was pretty damn awesome.

“Me, too,” Rufus agreed fervently.

“I'm just sorry it took me so long to find you,” said Lucy. “You had to have been in that dungeon for hours, and Wyatt...” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, I'm going to be all right,” said Wyatt firmly. He was feeling better and better, the longer they were out here in the open air. “And don't apologize. You didn't put Rufus and me in there.”

Lucy wasn't totally ready to let it go, he could tell, but she did nod.

A few minutes later, Wyatt felt well enough to walk on his own. That was another relief. Once he was standing by himself, he took a long moment to look up at the sky and take a few more deep breaths. It was beautiful out here – far enough away from any city that the stars were especially easy to see. He wished they had time for him to fly for a while, but even if their pursuers were all asleep, that probably wasn't a great idea. Mostly in case anyone else was nearby who might see him in the air. “The Lifeboat's what, about ten minutes in that direction?” He pointed toward the hill in front of them.

“Closer to five at this point, but yeah,” said Rufus.

Wyatt nodded and was about to continue forward when he was stopped by a realization: that meant that in five minutes, he was going to have to climb inside a small, enclosed space. He gulped. Usually, being in the Lifeboat didn't cause any problems for him, since it was never for a long period of time – but he wasn't sure that would be the case tonight. In fact, the thought of it made him feel nauseated.

“Wyatt?” Lucy came up next to him. “What's wrong?”

And now, seeing both of his teammates look at him in concern, Wyatt sighed and shook his head. How could he hope to keep protecting them, when his own nature made him so weak? “Nothing,” he said. “Let's keep going.”

~~  
Lucy couldn't keep herself from watching Wyatt as she and Rufus walked with him back to the Lifeboat. It was true he looked vastly better than he had when she'd first opened the door to that tiny cell, but there was something still off about him. Part of it was how quiet he'd been for the last few minutes. There was more to it than that, though.

She got her answer when they arrived back at the Lifeboat. Rufus climbed up first, as usual, and opened the door. That was usually when Wyatt helped her up – but this time, he stood frozen at the base of the machine, staring up at the door. His face was pale.

“Wyatt?”

He flinched, and then swallowed hard without looking at her.

“Wyatt, what's wrong?”

“I don't...” He clenched his fists, and she could see his wings move under his shirt. Then he spoke again, almost too quiet for her to hear: “It's, it's too small.”

Lucy's heart broke. Of course. After what he'd just been through … well, she could identify with that, at least somewhat. Even if that particular aspect of her life hadn't bothered her too much lately.

“You guys coming?” Rufus asked then, poking his head out of the door. He caught Lucy's eye, in the light coming from inside the Lifeboat. Wyatt still hadn't moved. Now he was staring at the ground.

“Give us a minute,” Lucy replied. “We'll be right there.”

Rufus bit his lip. She guessed he might have figured out what was going on, but if so, all he said was, “All right. Uh, I'm ready when you are.” Then he withdrew inside the machine again.

Lucy moved to stand next to Wyatt, without crowding him. “What can I do to help?”

He shook his head, still not looking at her. “I hate this. I used to be fine, I never used to have-- problems like this before.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. It didn't seem fair. There were a lot of things that were amazing about his heritage, but this definitely wasn't one of them.

Suddenly Wyatt raised his head and looked at her. “Lucy. Could you...?”

When he trailed off again, she touched his hand. “What?”

“Could you, uh, do something, cast a spell on me? So I can get through the trip home at least.” He looked back up at the door, and then away.

“Oh.” That hadn't even occurred to her, but it wasn't a bad idea. Except that she had never done any kind of magic like he was suggesting before, and the idea of it made her uneasy. It felt sort of like she would be messing with Wyatt's brain – or at least, that she could, without meaning to. Which would be horrifying. She'd done enough damage with uncontrolled magic already.

“Sorry.” Wyatt scoffed, seeing her uncertainty. “Dumb idea.”

“No, no, it's not,” she assured him. “I just … I need to think this through. I don't want to-- to accidentally cause any, um, side effects for you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, then yeah, that sounds like it's worth some thought.”

Lucy thought quickly. She didn't want to or need to change anything inside his head. She just wanted to keep him from being incapacitated by fear. And that gave her an idea. “Wyatt,” she said, “do you think it would work if I, um, gave you a way to be completely distracted from your surroundings?”

Now he looked intrigued and confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like … like virtual reality, I guess,” she tried to explain. “I was thinking I could temporarily make it so that when you look around, you're seeing some kind of nice, outside, wide-open place. Obviously I'd stop it as soon as we get back.”

“That sounds good,” he said, looking a little less tense. But then he swallowed again. “I'd still have to get inside this thing first, though, wouldn't I?”

She frowned. “What if I tried to make it so it looked like you were hiking up the side of a mountain, instead? Or, I don't know, climbing up out of a cave? And then Rufus and I could make sure you get into your seat all right.”

“Either one,” said Wyatt. “Let's give it a try. What do I need to do?”

Lucy clasped her hands together. The problem was, she didn't really know if he needed to participate in some way. Then another idea occurred to her. “Uh, I guess the easier option, the one I know more about, would be having you climb up out of the 'cave' or whatever, sit down in your seat, and then I, um, help you relax and go to sleep. Until we get to Mason Industries.”

Wyatt blinked. “Like the soldiers back at the fort?”

“Pretty much.” She had done that magic before. She knew she could do it.

He frowned, and said, “I think I'd rather be awake in case something goes wrong and you need me ready to fight.”

“All right.” Lucy wasn't honestly sure whether a Wyatt who was inside an illusion of her creation would be readier to fight than one who was in a charmed sleep, but she saw his point. She took a deep breath. “We'll go for it, then.”

When she concentrated on laying a detailed illusion like she had described, though, it felt strangely ineffectual – like it had just slid right off him. And Wyatt didn't react at all. For a second, she was confused and alarmed. Then she remembered. “Brightstar,” she said with a little sigh, rubbing her forehead. “You're naturally resistant to illusions.”

Wyatt gave a resigned laugh and nodded. “Right. Of course.”

“That doesn't mean I can't do it,” she hurried to say. “I think it just means I have to work a little harder.”

Rufus, who had been waiting through all of this at the entrance, spoke up. “Uh, guys? I don't want to rush you, but I just saw a bunch of lights go on at the fort. Like a whole lot of torches, I guess.”

Lucy and Wyatt turned around in the direction of the fort. _Damn it._ Rufus was right.

“Okay,” said Lucy, trying to breathe. “Okay, we can still do this.” There was no way she was letting them all get captured again – especially not Wyatt.

“Lucy, you can just make me go to sleep,” said Wyatt. “It'd be faster, right?”

“I have no idea,” she told him. Rufus and she would have to carry him into the Lifeboat if she did that right now, for one thing. “No, I'll-- I'll see what happens if I try again, at least.” Before she could second-guess herself any further, she focused again on laying a stronger illusion.

“Whoa,” said Wyatt a moment later, stepping back. “It's working. At least mostly.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. Let's go.”

Fearless now, Wyatt climbed up into the Lifeboat. He didn't falter on the way. Once she got inside, though, it was really weird to have to essentially lead him by the hand to his seat, and buckle him in while he stared around, unseeing. But she and Rufus managed it – and then they were off.

Lucy watched Wyatt carefully (as much as possible during the jolting, jostling trip), but he seemed fine for the whole time. She focused on maintaining the illusion for him, despite the resistance she could feel. When they landed and she had unbuckled his seatbelt, though, it was time to stop the spell. She met Rufus's gaze. He nodded a little. Then she lifted the spell.

Wyatt blinked a few times. “We're here?” he asked, meeting her eyes. He looked totally normal – like her magic hadn't had any lasting effects on him.

“Yeah. Let's get out of the Lifeboat, okay?”

He seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time at that point. Instantly, she could see some tension return. But he didn't freak out. Still, she and Rufus had no problem with letting him go first.

Lucy was pleased to see that Wyatt seemed fine when he got out of the Lifeboat. She hadn't thought ahead to the debrief, though. In that small room, with windows that were usually covered by blinds...

“You going to be all right?” she asked him in a low voice. They were approaching the room after they'd all had a chance to shower and change.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “I guess I have to be. You can't exactly lay another illusion on me, and I can't just skip the debrief for no good reason, so...”

“No good reason?” Lucy stared at him. “Wyatt, you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be uncomfortable with being inside a – place like this, right now.”

“No, I don't!” he shot back, with something close to a glare. “Not one that Agent Christopher knows anything about. I didn't think we were planning on changing that.”

“Rufus and I could say that you're not feeling well, which is true,” she suggested, “and we could fill you in on anything you need to know later.”

It was a mark of how his captivity was still affecting him, she thought, that he even considered the idea. “No,” he said eventually, shaking his head as the rest of the group joined them at the door to the room. “I'll-- I'll be fine. I can handle it.”

“Wyatt,” she started to protest, but he was already walking into the room. Sighing, she went in and sat down next to him at the table. At least not all of the blinds were shut in here at the moment.

Lucy watched Wyatt as closely as she could without outright staring at him during the debrief. She was pretty sure Rufus was doing the same thing, too. For his part, Wyatt ignored them. He appeared to be doing okay … at first.

When it came time for him and Rufus to describe what had happened after they'd been thrown in the dungeon, however, she started to see signs that he was less okay. He was tense, his sentences got more stilted, and she didn't think she was imagining how pale he was getting. Finally, after even Mason began to notice and look concerned about him, Lucy interrupted.

“For God's sake, Wyatt, we need to tell them! Then you won't have to-- keep doing this.” Both Mason and Agent Christopher would understand once they heard, she was sure – and besides, it wasn't like they needed to keep it a secret anymore since Rittenhouse already knew.

“Tell us what?” Agent Christopher wanted to know. She looked between the two of them as Wyatt glowered at Lucy and Rufus shifted in his seat. “Wyatt?”

He was silent for a few seconds. Then he stood up. “Tell them or don't,” he said, his words clipped. “I'm going to get some air.”

Without looking at anyone, he stalked out of the room. Lucy sighed. She didn't know whether to hope he would come back in, or wait for her outside, or just … go somewhere and decompress.

“All right then,” said Agent Christopher, into the silence that fell after his exit. She sounded both frustrated and worried. “Would either of you care to enlighten us what that was all about, since Wyatt wasn't interested in doing so?”

Lucy looked at Rufus. Her friend shrugged. “I mean, he said we could tell them,” he muttered, though he didn't look happy about the idea.

“Is he ill?” asked Mason. “Is it serious?”

“No, he's not ill,” Lucy said quickly. Then she exhaled and scrubbed a hand over her forehead. “I mean, not really. He was pretty sick for a while after being locked up in the dungeon, but that was because of something else we never told you about.”

Agent Christopher raised her eyebrows. “Which is what?”

“He's not just some random, unknown kind of fae,” Rufus put in then. “He's a Brightstar.”

Judging by their reactions, Lucy surmised that Mason knew exactly what that meant, while Agent Christopher only had a vague understanding of it. Mason's jaw dropped, and he swore under his breath. The Homeland Security agent, on the other hand, just looked puzzled.

“I've come across that name a little bit in reading up on fae,” she said, “but I'm guessing there has to be more behind that word than just a legendary race of warriors.”

“Oh, there's a hell of a lot more to it than that,” said Mason, clearing his throat. He still looked stunned. “Most relevant to this moment might be the fact that, as winged creatures who traditionally traveled from place to place by flying, Brightstars hate small, enclosed spaces.”

After he, Lucy, and Rufus filled in other relevant pieces of information for Agent Christopher, the agent was clearly amazed. She shook her head. “Well. That clears up a lot of things. Is he still here?”

“No,” said Rufus, before Lucy even had a chance. He looked at her apologetically. “I texted him a minute ago, and he said he was on his way back to his apartment.”

Lucy's eyes widened. He had left? Actually left? He must be furious.

“Then I guess that's all for today, once you two fill in the details on how you all got back to the Lifeboat,” was Agent Christopher's response.

Lucy was sure she wasn't very coherent as she tried to fulfill that request. Thankfully, Rufus was perfectly able to step in and pick up the slack. Meanwhile, she was busy trying not to stew about the fact that she had evidently made Wyatt so mad that he had driven home – without her. He'd been her ride this morning, as usual ever since she'd effectively moved in with him (and sometimes before then, too). Now, she wasn't sure what the best move was. Should she call him? Try to apologize? Just ask Rufus for a ride? Should she even try to go to his apartment? She so rarely spent time in hers now that it would most definitely be depressing to go there, with the mood she was in.

When Agent Christopher and Mason thanked them, and Christopher said they could go, Lucy tried to focus. She stood up. She had to make a decision now.

But Rufus didn't let her go off by herself. He ran to catch up with her in the hall. “Hey. Um, you need a ride?”

Lucy took a shaky breath, and decided against saying anything out loud. She would probably burst into tears, and she really didn't want to do that. So instead she just nodded.

He gave her an encouraging smile. “I'm sure he just needs some time to cool down, and totally recover from today.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. She appreciated Rufus's optimistic comment, but she wasn't sure that was all this was. It seemed to her like it could be a dangerous combination of anger at his teammates (and her in particular), anger at himself for what he saw as weakness, and the aftereffects of how close he had come to lasting damage in that godforsaken dungeon. She needed to find him, soon. She just hoped he would listen to her when she did.

~~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting another chapter posted! It's a bit shorter than usual, but here it is.
> 
> Trigger warning for very brief discussion of panic attacks & self-harm.

~~  
Looking back on it, Wyatt didn't remember the drive back to his apartment – which was a really bad sign. He didn't even remember the intermediate steps between parking in his space, passing by the Homeland Security guards at the perimeter, getting to his apartment door, and then realizing he didn't want to be anywhere inside right now. He did have a vague recollection of deciding the best option was to get somewhere up high, and private, and then from there he had hit on an idea for a place that would fulfill those requirements. Sure, that door at the end of the hall was always locked, but that didn't have to stop him.

And that was how he'd ended up where he was now, standing on the flat roof of his apartment. He leaned on the low railing, looking out over the surrounding area while he tried to get some kind of a grip on his thoughts and feelings. Just being alone and outside was enough to calm him a little bit. It was enough to quiet the noise in his head so that he could actually think, at least. That meant he could recognize that all of this was going to lead toward a panic attack, or flashbacks, or some other response that he didn't want, if he didn't stop it. So he shut his eyes, focused on deep, slow breaths, and followed the techniques he'd learned in his therapy sessions to ground himself in the present.

In spite of everything else he'd gone through today, at least that seemed to work. Wyatt let out a sigh and sat down heavily on the ground, his back against one of the pillars of the railing. Now he was exhausted. Bringing himself back from the brink didn't mean his brain wasn't going to go over today's events in detail. It just meant it was in a more organized and therefore more ruthless fashion. First, there was the fact that he had failed to protect his teammates, leading to Lucy being dragged off, and Rufus and him being thrown into a jail cell. Then there was the unavoidable evidence of how small spaces like that cell were going to affect him from now on. This had been just about the polar opposite of that time he and Rufus had been trapped in the murder hotel in Chicago. Today, he had been incapacitated to the point that he would have been totally useless if they had run into any resistance on the way out of the fort. Hell, Lucy and Rufus had had to focus entirely on taking care of him, too.

On top of all of that, there was the fact that his boss now knew about what had happened (he assumed), and therefore knew that he was no longer qualified to keep anyone else safe, much less himself. There was also the little fact that it was Lucy who had revealed this. He sighed. He wasn't as angry as he had been, but that whole thing wasn't just going to go away, either. At the same time, part of him knew it had been inevitable; it would have come out, sooner or later.

His phone chimed then, interrupting his still turbulent thoughts. It was Rufus. _'Where are you, man?'_ the text said. _'You're really starting to freak me out. Lucy, too. The guards said you're here, but you're not in your apartment.'_

He blinked, and then swore under his breath. He'd taken off and left Lucy at Mason Industries, not even thinking about the fact that he had given her a ride as usual this morning. Or evening, or whatever time it had been. Rufus must be here with her right now. He checked his inbox. There were several missed calls – although only one from Lucy. She hadn't texted him at all. He rubbed a hand over his face. Angry at her or not, he wasn't trying to scare her.

Sighing, Wyatt pushed himself to his feet and walked to the side of the building that would be visible from the parking lot. It was getting dark, but there was still enough light that they should be able to see him if they were here and knew where to look. He saw the two of them, standing by Rufus's car. Oddly, they weren't with the guards, who seemed to still be patrolling. Bypassing Rufus, Wyatt texted Lucy. _'I'm here,'_ he said simply. _'Look up.'_

A second later, Lucy's head swung up from the phone in her hand. She looked around in confusion that was obvious even from this distance – and then she saw him. He wasn't going to be able to hear any reaction she made, but she did grab Rufus and point. And then she brought her phone up to her ear. His phone rang.

“Hi,” he said, as soon as he answered it.

“Hi.” She sounded oddly tense. “Are-- are you all right?”

He shrugged, although he knew she probably hadn't seen the gesture. He was about to tell her he was fine, but decided he might as well be a little more honest than that. “I don't know. Maybe.”

“Okay.” She let out a shaky sigh. “Well. Just as long as you're, um, you're not planning to do anything rash.”

“What?” Now he was just confused. He took a step closer to the railing – and she gasped. That was when the penny dropped, and he backed away from the edge quickly. “No, no. Lucy, that's not--” He swallowed and started again. “I just-- I wanted to be able to see the sky.” It sounded kind of dumb when he listened to himself, but he hoped she believed him, at least.

“Oh.” He watched as she sagged backward against Rufus's car. “Ohhh. Okay. That-- No, that makes sense. Sorry. I shouldn't have...”

Wyatt wasn't sure how to respond in this situation. He supposed he could get angry, that Lucy and possibly Rufus as well had just assumed he was in bad enough shape to be suicidal (and he could also point out to them the logical flaw in thinking that jumping off a building would even have to be dangerous for him now that he had wings). He could just be depressed and upset, for the same reason. Or...

“Wyatt?” She sounded worried again.

“The door to the roof should still be unlocked,” was what he settled on as a reply. “If you want to join me.”

This time the pause was on her end. He thought he could hear her talking with Rufus. Shortly after that, the man waved at Wyatt, got into his car, and drove off. “Okay,” Lucy said, after the noise of the car faded. “I'll be right up.”

“I'll be waiting.” Wyatt ended the call. He and Lucy were going to talk. That was a good thing, even if it meant they had to argue about what she had done at the debrief. He turned around to face the roof access door and leaned against the railing again to wait.

~~  
Lucy waited until Rufus had driven away and she'd put her phone in her pocket to start moving toward the building. She was still more relieved than words could express that Wyatt was all right – that he not only wasn't so upset with her that he refused to talk, but more importantly, that his reason for being on the roof was so … not-alarming. Yeah, she was out of words. Hopefully she would still be able to have this talk with him that they needed to have, anyway.

She made her way all the way to the roof, through the access door that was in fact unlocked. And there he was, facing her as he leaned against the low railing. He didn't move toward her – but he didn't move away, either. That was something.

The wind up here was pretty strong, Lucy noted, as she walked toward him. She shivered, glad she was at least still wearing her light jacket.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he said, when she was close enough to hear. “And I'm sorry for ditching you at the office.”

Lucy smiled a little. “I don't blame you.” Then she sighed and leaned on the railing next to him. “I'm sure you were mad, and I get that.”

“I still am, some,” he told her. He dropped his gaze. “It wasn't your responsibility to tell Agent Christopher and Mason what you told them. It was mine.”

She thought about jumping right in with the fact that while that was unquestionably true, he'd obviously decided he wasn't going to fulfill that responsibility. But that wouldn't be very constructive. Instead, she just nodded. “You're right. And maybe I shouldn't have told you not to tell them about your heritage when we first got back from the Wild Lands,” she admitted. “But...” She remembered all too easily how pale and sick he had looked, sitting in that debrief room – not long after barely being able to walk out of the dungeon back at the fort. “But you shouldn't have had to just suffer through being stuck in that room, either.”

“'Suffer through.'” Wyatt scoffed and folded his arms. “It was just sitting in a room, Lucy. That's not exactly optional, in any line of work I'm qualified for.” Then he turned around to stare out over the roof. “Or that I _was_ qualified for, anyway.”

“Wyatt...” Lucy stepped closer. She had to get him to believe this. “You're not unqualified for this job all of a sudden.”

He didn't look at her. “So Christopher didn't fire me?”

“Of course she didn't.” She shook her head. “That would be like firing one of the only three experts in a particular field, or a top army specialist, just because...” she tried to find an adequate comparison, “just because they developed a, an allergy to bee stings or something.”

At that, Wyatt let out a startled laugh. “An allergy?”

“Well – yeah, why not?” She put her hands on her hips, trying not to be annoyed at his skeptical smile. “I mean, it's not anything you did to yourself, and it just came on naturally. So...”

“Serious food allergies and allergies to bee stings disqualify from military service, you know,” he pointed out, his smile fading.

“Oh.” Lucy frowned. She supposed that made sense. “Okay, but what if the allergy develops after the person is already serving? They don't kick you out, do they?”

He looked thoughtful. “That's a different story, yeah.” Then he raised his gaze to the sky. “But this isn't as easily managed as that kind of situation. There's nothing as simple for me as carrying an EpiPen wherever I go.”

They fell silent for a while after that. He was right; there was no simple solution, Lucy had to admit. She couldn't guarantee she'd always be right there to give him a nice, distracting illusion – especially in the middle of a shootout or some other crisis. On the other hand... 

“You know I've been doing some research about magic,” she said. “Just a little bit, here and there, when there's time.”

In the light of the nearest streetlight (and of his own faint glow), Lucy saw him give her a puzzled look. “Uh, yeah, I've seen a couple of your books lying around.” His follow-up of, “Why are you talking about this right now, exactly?” went unsaid.

“Right.” She took a breath. “I don't want to make any promises – I still have so little idea of what I'm doing with, with my magic – but I do want to tell you that I'm going to look into this. I'm going to look into what I could do for you, that would help you in any situation when you might otherwise have an, um--”

“Allergic reaction?” He raised his eyebrows for a moment, and then looked intrigued. “But seriously, Lucy … that would be amazing. Thank you.”

She shrugged and looked down at the parking lot below them. “Don't thank me yet. Like I said, I don't even know if it's going to be possible.”

“I appreciate it, anyway,” he said, and his voice was warm.

After another short pause, a gust of wind blew past them both, and Lucy shivered again. Immediately, Wyatt put an arm around her and pulled her in closer. “You want to go back inside?”

“Only if you do,” she said.

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds. Then he nodded. “I think I'm ready.”

Lucy was relieved, again, when she didn't feel him tense up at all upon entering the building. Nothing in his demeanor changed at all, in fact. He also hadn't taken his arm off her shoulders. “So,” she said, after they got downstairs and he locked the roof access door behind them. “Are we … are we okay?”

He moved his arm away – but only, she noted quickly, so that he could unlock his apartment door. Or at least she thought that was the only reason. “You know,” he said, as they walked into the front room, “thinking back, you still never actually apologized. For today.”

She had been following him inside almost on autopilot, but looked up at that in shock. “What?” And then she saw the smirk on his face, and rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Well, it's true,” he said, “technically.”

“All right, I get the point.” She moved closer and took both of his hands in hers. “I'm sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn't have – overstepped like I did in the debrief today. Even when I'm worried about you, I'll do my best to let you handle the situation however you want to. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed with a nod. And then he smiled, a real smile this time, and kissed her lightly.

There was still more that needed to be said, much as Lucy would otherwise just follow up on that kiss. “I still don't want anybody else protecting me and Rufus, by the way,” she went on, searching his face to be sure he knew she was being sincere. She let go of his right hand and turned over his left palm. There was an extremely faint scar, which she could only barely feel when she ran her fingers over it. “You know, Rufus told us what you did for him. He was … he was pretty blown away.”

Wyatt bit his lip. “I'm just glad it worked. He was in bad shape, and I'm not a full-blood Brightstar, so I really wasn't sure.”

“Well, no one else could have even tried to do that for him,” she pointed out. “And plus, you have a sword you can use whenever you need it, and wings. That's pretty cool.”

“Can't argue with you there,” he said, with a quick grin. Then he sighed. “But I still could really go without the potentially fatal phobia that comes along with that stuff.”

“Yeah.” She twined her fingers through his. “But maybe we can work around that.”

“Maybe.”

~~  
One Day Later

Wyatt took a breath and shut his eyes for a second. _I'm going to be fine,_ he told himself. _Lucy's right here. Even if this doesn't work, I'll be fine._ He met her eyes. “All right. I'm as ready as I'm going to be.”

“You sure?” She looked nervous, too, which he tried to ignore.

“Yeah. Let's not drag this out.” With that, he set his jaw and – pushing aside thoughts of how crazy this would look to anyone else who happened to see it – opened the closet door. Then he stepped inside, where he barely fit in front of all the clothes he had hanging in there. “Shut it,” he told her.

He heard her take her own deep breath, and then she closed the door after him.

There was an instant when that terrible, familiar blind panic struck him, and he bit back a cry. But then it was like he'd been plunged into a warm, pleasant bath of-- it wasn't quite like water, since there was no oppressive feeling like he was drowning. Whatever it was, it pushed the claustrophobia away. It was like the fear was still there, but it was above the surface of the strange stuff that was enveloping him. The stuff that was protecting him.

Wyatt shook his head. It kind of felt like his ears were plugged, too. That could be a problem, he thought. But on the other hand, he was still able to think and reason. The fear wasn't getting worse.

He wasn't sure whether the full five minutes they had agreed on had passed when Lucy opened the door. Her eyes were wide and anxious. She stood back quickly even as she scanned his face. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

Her voice sounded just a tiny bit muffled, or echoey, or something. Wyatt blinked, tried to clear his ears, and stepped out into the bedroom. The odd blanketing sensation started to fade. “I'm okay,” he told Lucy. “In fact, I-- I would have been fine in there longer, I'm pretty sure.”

“Really?” The worry in her eyes lessened. “It worked?”

“Pretty well, yeah,” he said, and then reported what he had felt as the spell dissipated completely. “The thing where it messes with my hearing a little bit might need some work,” he finished, “but that's still better than – what happens without the spell. A lot better.”

She shut her eyes for a moment, let out a breath, and then met his gaze, her own eyes shining. “That's-- Wyatt, that's so good to hear.”

He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he said, his voice rough. They'd had the last day off (whatever Emma was up to after her trip to the 1800s, it hadn't involved taking out the Mothership), and Wyatt had assumed they would both be using the time for some much-needed relaxation. But although Lucy was happy to spend the day with him, she had also spent more than half of her time researching types of magic use that might be applicable to his situation. She hadn't stopped looking until she found some ideas that looked useful. And now, it seemed like her dedication had paid off.

“I'll keep refining it,” she said, pulling away just enough that she could look at him. “And I'll check to make sure it's at full strength before every mission.”

“I know you will.” Meanwhile, he was just so intensely relieved that this part of what it meant to be a Brightstar didn't have to be so debilitating. He wanted to be able to do this job. He needed to be there, for Lucy and for Rufus.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our show was canceled, you guys. :( I am just so sad.  
> But I'm going to keep writing this anyway, and holding onto that sliver of hope that the Time Team will find a new home.
> 
> Also, I did some research, but I apologize if what I had Wyatt say re: allergies and serving in the armed forces was incorrect. Please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everyone's already shared their joy about the un-cancellation, but I just have to add mine: YAY, our show is back!! Such wonderful news, and it still has the power to make me smile whenever I think about it.
> 
> Here's the next chapter.

~  
The two of them were brought awake the next morning by the harsh sound of Wyatt's phone ringing. As Lucy groaned and rolled over, Wyatt reached for it. Of course, it was Agent Christopher. He answered. “Hello?”

“Master Sergeant Logan,” she said, and even in that terse greeting he could hear her tension. “I trust you're feeling better by now?”

“I am, ma'am,” he replied. He was still only half sitting up, with his wing spread out over Lucy next to him. “But I have a feeling you aren't just calling to check up on me.”

“Connor Mason has been kidnapped,” she announced. Then she took a sharp breath, and Wyatt was startled to realize that she had almost lost her composure there. “Also, my house was attacked, but we're all fine. Your security team and Rufus's team have reported suspicious activity near your apartment complexes, but no outright hostile action.”

“My God.” Wyatt sat up completely, folding his wings and turning on his bedside lamp. Lucy started to sit up as well, he saw out of the corner of his eye. “Was this--?”

“We're working under that assumption,” she said crisply. “I'm calling you all in. You'll have an increased escort on the way.”

He felt a chill. This had been a coordinated assault on their team, and it wasn't crazy to think Rittenhouse could try again. And if that was true, he had to wonder whether they were being called in to help find Mason, or to be sent to a safehouse. The latter idea was not appealing, much as he understood the rationale. Lucy had sat up by this point, and was watching him in alarm. “We'll be ready to leave in ten,” he said.

“Good. And Wyatt – stay alert, you and Lucy both.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He hung up, and immediately passed on the news to Lucy. Unsurprisingly, she was just as horrified as he was.

They were downstairs to meet their escort in under ten minutes. As Wyatt expected, the Homeland Security agents who were outside requested that they ride in the government-issued SUVs rather than drive themselves. There were four other vehicles waiting to escort them.

“God,” muttered Lucy.

“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed. He took her hand, and they got into the SUV that had its doors open for them. They were silent the entire way to Mason Industries. Even with the overall feeling of dread hanging over everything, though, Wyatt wasn't displeased to arrive here instead of a safehouse.

Rufus and Jiya were arriving at about the same time, in their own convoy. Unsurprisingly, Rufus looked extremely upset. Still, he and Jiya both took the time as they went inside to ask how Wyatt was doing, which was – kind of nice, he supposed.

“What's going on?” Rufus demanded, as soon as they were all inside in the usual room with Agent Christopher standing at the head of the table. A few other agents were there as well. “What happened to Connor? How did Rittenhouse get to him?”

“And your family,” Jiya added, “you said they attacked your house, too?”

“My family is all right, considering,” Agent Christopher said. Wyatt didn't think he was imagining the haunted look that was visible in her eyes for just a second. “Just shaken up. I've sent them somewhere safer for now.”

Lucy took a breath. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right, Lucy,” said the agent, with a brief, worried smile. “At least they're out of harm's way. But as far as what happened with Mason, we don't know much. Very little in the way of trace evidence was left behind.”

Agent Christopher went on to inform them that Mason had been asleep in his house – or at least inside and quiet, with the lights off. He'd had his usual security, in addition to the Homeland Security guards that Christopher had insisted he accept after Emma's betrayal (like everyone else). One of his personal security had reported seeing movement inside the house. When that had been followed by something that sounded like a struggle, everyone had poured in – only to find no sign of the house's owner, or anyone else. There was a broken glass on the floor of the kitchen. One window on one side of the house was open a crack. None of the locks on the front or back doors had been damaged, and the security system showed no signs of tampering.

“So basically, you have nothing.” Rufus crossed his arms and started to pace.

Christopher sighed. “Close to nothing, anyway. The lack of trace evidence of any kind, other than the broken glass, is frankly bewildering. I'm sorry, Rufus. I wish I had better news. We'll keep going over what we do have, but it doesn't look promising so far.”

Rufus stopped pacing, but only so that he could rub his hands over his face. “Okay. Fine. What do we do next?”

“Hold on a second,” said Lucy, before Christopher could reply. “Did-- does anyone on Mason's security team have the ability to check for magic use?”

Everyone stared at her again. Agent Christopher raised her eyebrows. “Magic use?”

“I mean, almost no trace evidence, no sign of how anyone got inside … and we know for a fact that Rittenhouse has at least a few mages in their ranks,” she pointed out. She gave an uncomfortable shrug. “It just seems like a logical possibility.”

Wyatt had an idea of what was coming next. He clenched his jaw. Just as he had expected, when Agent Christopher admitted that there were no mages among either Mason's private security or the Homeland agents, Lucy followed that with, “I could try to examine the scene. See what I can find out.”

“No!” he said, only barely restraining himself from shouting. “Lucy, this is Rittenhouse! What if-- what if kidnapping Mason like this is a trap, a way to lure you somewhere where their mages can grab you, too? They already tried to go after all of us tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Don't you think they could grab me any time they want? I don't even know what I'm doing with my magic half the time – so it's not like I'm competently defending myself from magical attack on a daily basis.”

He took a breath. He saw what she was saying, much as he hated that there was any truth to her words. The idea that they were all just waiting around, helpless, for whenever Rittenhouse decided to launch their final assault – that idea galled him. He refused to believe that it was as straightforward as that. “But you'd be putting yourself in a place we know is vulnerable to magical attack,” he insisted. “That's got to make a difference.”

“Much as I don't really want to wade into this,” Rufus said then, clearing his throat, “Lucy, Wyatt does have a point, sort of.” At his scoff, Rufus grimaced. “Sorry. What I'm trying to say is there are rules about magic use, even in the human world. Magical laws, on the same level as things like gravity or momentum. They're not the kind of thing even Rittenhouse can just break whenever and wherever they want. And one of those is the fact that transporting a person against their will, especially while the person isn't just standing in one place, takes a hell of a lot of energy.” He realized everyone was looking at him now, and looked down at the table. “Or so I've read, anyway.”

“Only you would just go ahead and read up on the natural laws of magic, for fun,” said Jiya, with an admiring and exasperated shake of her head.

Lucy smiled a little. “I know what you're talking about, Rufus. I've been doing a lot of reading about that kind of thing, too. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to go check out Mason's house. It might be the only way we find clues about where Mason is.”

“Wait a minute, Lucy,” said Agent Christopher, before Wyatt could protest again. “If I understand what your teammates are getting at, we do need to approach this with caution. Rittenhouse's mages would have had to plan this thing in advance and set it up while avoiding detection – and I know Mason is paranoid enough to have magic detection included in his security system.”

“Oh, hell yes,” muttered Rufus. Jiya looked like she was trying to decide whether laughing at that would be too disrespectful under the circumstances.

“Yeah. Which means they could have had the time to set it up as a trap for you,” Wyatt insisted.

She glared at him, though it was half-hearted at best. “Fine,” she said, turning back to Agent Christopher. “I'll be careful. I can, um, I can try my best to see what I can see from a distance. But I do have to be on-site, on his property at least.”

That, Wyatt was not going to protest. As long as he was there with her.

Wyatt, Rufus, and Lucy set out with a large contingent from Homeland Security not too long after that (Jiya having wished them luck but said she'd be happier in the office, helping check security camera footage). Once they arrived at Mason's house, Christopher arranged a place for Lucy to work from. Really, it was just the space between a couple of Homeland Security SUVs, but Lucy didn't want anything more than that.

“I don't even know that I'll be able to find anything,” she said, when Christopher asked again if she was sure this was going to be good enough. “Just, um, if you could ask everyone not to be moving around a lot inside the house, that would be nice.”

It turned out that Lucy just wanted that little area so she could concentrate well enough to “reach out with her magic” (as she put it). That left Rufus, Agent Christopher, and Wyatt as spectators. They withdrew far enough behind her to give Lucy space. Then, as Lucy shut her eyes and faced toward Mason's huge, fancy house, Christopher got a phone call. She stepped away.

“Huh,” said Rufus, in a low voice. “Well, suddenly I feel like I'm just taking up space here.”

“Yeah,” said Wyatt, scanning the area and seeing the dozens of security personnel and agents milling around, “I know what you mean. I'd suggest one or both of us could at least go inside and see what there is to see, except...”

“Rittenhouse could have set a trap for us, too?”

“Exactly.” He sighed.

There was a pause. Lucy hadn't really moved much that Wyatt had seen, and her eyes were still shut.

“So what do you think they want with Mason?” Rufus asked then. He wasn't really successful in not looking worried.

Wyatt took a moment to put his thoughts in order. He had been thinking about that same question ever since Agent Christopher's call. The possibilities he'd come up with were all pretty dire. “I'm not sure,” he told Rufus quietly. “I don't think they need him to build another time machine, since they already have the Mothership. But they could want him to design something else for them.” He swallowed. “Like maybe some kind of weapon. Something to disrupt the Lifeboat's functionality … or something even worse.”

Rufus looked ill. “God. This is some serious comic book supervillain shit.”

“You got that right.”

After another few seconds, Rufus spoke up again. His voice was carefully level as he asked, “Do you think they're going to kill him?”

There was no way Rufus would be satisfied with his answer if he tried to sugarcoat it, Wyatt knew. “That depends on a couple of things,” he said. “The first thing is, will he give them what they want? How useful is he to them? Beyond that, there's the fact that him deciding to be on our side looks a lot like betrayal from Rittenhouse's point of view, I'm guessing.”

“Yeah.” Rufus shut his eyes for a moment. “That's kind of what I was thinking.”

Before the conversation could continue, Lucy let out a gasp. “Oh my God!” Her eyes flew open, and she staggered backward several steps. Wyatt ran forward, catching her just as she nearly collapsed.

“Whoa, whoa, I got you,” he said, relieved when Lucy met his gaze and then stood upright with no trouble. “What's wrong?”

“There was--” She stopped herself, looking around wildly. “Where's Agent Christopher? I need to talk to her, right now!”

The woman was already hurrying over, presumably having heard Lucy's cry. “Lucy? Are you all right? Did you find out something?”

“I'm-- I'm okay,” said Lucy, her eyes wide. “But you were right, Wyatt: there was a trap.”

“What?!” He stared at her, and then looked her over more closely. He couldn't see anything that looked like an injury or--

“I'm fine,” she repeated. He would have found this more reassuring if she wasn't trembling, which he saw now. “I, um, I got away from it before it caught me. But it was definitely set up to grab anyone using a significant amount of magic to investigate the place.”

“Can you be more precise about what kind of trap it was?” Christopher wanted to know.

She gave a slow nod. “Uh, I can try.”

From what Lucy described, it sounded like the Rittenhouse mages (she thought there had to have been at least two involved) had left very few magic traces around the house. The one exception was in the living room. This was where Lucy had found what looked to her like a portal – or the remains of a portal, since it had been made to only be used once. When she had tried to see if she could find out where the portal led, that was when she had triggered the trap.

“Right before that, I saw Mason for just a second, or I thought I did,” she reported. “He was in a house or a hotel room, maybe. Very elegant and expensive looking, but not as modern as this place.” She gestured at Mason's house. Then she bit her lip. “He, um, he was alive, but he didn't look so good.”

“In what way?” prompted Agent Christopher, while Rufus started to pace again.

“He looked like he'd been hit in the face a couple of times,” Lucy said. “That's all I saw, before I started to feel like I was being pulled away. It was different from the trap portal Wyatt and I got caught by in the 1970s – not nearly as cold, for one thing – but still something along the same lines, I think.”

Wyatt curled his hands into fists. His right arm was already getting warm. But she was fine, he reminded himself. She was here. She hadn't been grabbed by any Rittenhouse thugs.

“I'm pretty sure I recognized the-- 'feel' isn't quite the right word, but I guess that's the best I can do – the feel of at least one of the mages who made the trap,” she went on, and now her gaze dropped to the ground. “I think it was my father. I didn't notice anything that felt like my mother, though, so there's at least one other Rittenhouse mage out there who we don't know about.”

“Terrific,” Rufus said under his breath. Wyatt glared at him, but at least Lucy didn't seem to have heard.

“That's not entirely unexpected, but it's good to have the confirmation nonetheless,” said Agent Christopher. She sighed. “All right. I'm glad you avoided the trap. Did you happen to notice anything else that could be helpful in finding Mason or these particular Rittenhouse members?”

“Maybe,” she said, and then shrugged. “I don't know. It-- everything happened pretty fast, once I found the portal.”

“Any chance you could get rid of the trap now that you've confirmed it's there?” the agent asked.

Once again, Wyatt wanted to protest immediately. It was too risky; she could spring it accidentally, or the Rittenhouse mages could somehow notice her tampering and reach out themselves to grab her. But he was sure Lucy was considering those possibilities, too. She didn't need him to jump in. So he stayed silent.

“I'm not sure,” she said, and then scoffed. “Sorry. I know I sound like a broken record. But this is all barely more than guesswork for me.”

“I understand,” said Agent Christopher. Then she shook her head. “I mean, I can imagine what it must be like. But we're grasping at straws here. Anything that we can come up with to find Mason – ideally before permanent damage is done to him or through him – would be a breakthrough.”

Lucy nodded. “Then I'll give it a try.” She shut her eyes again. Wyatt didn't back away, though he knew it was probably pointless. He just felt like he should be at her side even if he couldn't actually help her. (God, he wished he wasn't so totally useless in this situation.) Almost before he had finished that thought, though, she reached out a hand blindly toward him. He took it quickly.

~~  
Her first, cautious attempt to check on the status of the trap inside Mason's house revealed that to be a dead end. Evidently once she had sprung it, it was gone. Lucy remembered Rufus saying back in 1973 that portals didn't normally stay open that long, so maybe that made sense.

Before she could be discouraged by this, however, another idea occurred to her. One of the types of spells she had been studying about was locator spells. She hadn't even thought of it until now, since she of course had no experience doing that kind of spell. Also, the spell caster was supposed to have an item belonging to the missing person in order for the spell to work. That object would serve the same sort of function as it would for a bloodhound, as far as Lucy understood. She opened her eyes. “The trap is gone,” she reported. “But I just had an idea. I need something of Mason's, something that belongs to him. I might be able to use it to track him with a locator spell.”

In a matter of minutes, someone from Mason's security team had gone inside the house and brought out one of Mason's suit jackets. Lucy tried not to feel too weird when she took it from the guy. It just felt oddly intimate to be holding a piece of Connor Mason's clothing, when the number of one-on-one interactions she'd had with him could be counted on one hand.

“So how is this supposed to work?” Agent Christopher asked.

“I'm supposed to just, um, focus on Mason while I have an object of his,” said Lucy with a little shrug. “That's the basics of it. It should be pretty straightforward.”

“Then don't let us distract you,” said Wyatt, from right next to her. He stepped back a few paces.

Lucy took a breath, shut her eyes, and concentrated. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. But then there was a jolt, and she felt an odd sensation that was like she was moving, but only sort of like it. Like not her whole self was moving. She tried not to let herself worry about that. At least she had learned how to hide herself better in this kind of situation; the last time she had sleep-traveled (or whatever it was called – she hadn't found anything about that in her research), no one had seemed to notice she was there.

A moment later, she could see him. Connor Mason was no longer in the same elegant, richly-decorated place as she had seen him last time – or if he was, it was an entirely different part of the building. He was tied to a metal chair, in what looked like a basement. The lighting was bad, but it was enough to see that he looked terrible. There were more bruises visible on him than she'd seen just a few minutes ago, and blood coming from his nose and a split in his lip. But more urgent than that, there was a man standing in front of him, with another figure in the shadows to Mason's right. Mason was breathing raggedly and straining away from the two men, and his fear and pain were obvious. The man in front of Mason had his back to Lucy's vantage point, and she could barely see the other guy at all.

“There's no point in fighting it,” said the man who wasn't in shadow. Lucy held back a gasp. She knew that voice. She had heard it speaking to her in a variety of tones, including one similar to this: frustrated, but trying for understanding. “I don't want to keep hurting you. I want to help you.”

“You'll forgive me … if I find that difficult … to believe,” panted Mason, not raising his head to look at the mage's eyes. Noah's eyes.

“We can't afford to keep wasting time, Noah,” said the other man. He stepped into the light, as if Lucy needed the added confirmation after hearing his voice to recognize her father. “It's only a matter of time before Lucy figures out a way to find him.”

Noah scoffed. “She hasn't even had any formal training.”

“She doesn't need to have any formal training to be one of the most formidable mages we'll ever see,” Cahill said, eyebrows raised. “Or do I need to remind you of her parentage? The purity of her bloodline?”

The younger man took a step back and lowered his head. “No, of course not.”

Mason took this opportunity to smile, though it looked like it caused him pain. “You know, I hope … I'm still conscious … when your daughter does find you,” he said to Cahill. He coughed. “I'd deeply enjoy … watching her kick your asses.”

Her father chuckled. Then, without letting the smile fade, he raised a hand, and Mason immediately cried out in agony. He let up again within seconds, leaving Mason slumped and shaking in the chair. “Get what we need from him now, Noah,” he demanded. “We're running out of time.”

Noah didn't seem pleased with this, though it was hard to see his facial expression clearly from her vantage point and Lucy was scared to move, in case she caught anyone's attention. Nevertheless, the man who had been Lucy's fiance then bent forward and grabbed Mason's face. He forced the captive man to meet his gaze. Mason flinched and struggled and yelled, but couldn't escape.

He was attacking Mason's mind, Lucy realized. Who knew what kind of secrets Rittenhouse hoped to get out of the mind of the creator of both time machines? This was bad. This was--

She had to stop them. But could she really do anything, when she wasn't even fully here? There was only one way to find out.

Another second, and she had decided. She had never used her magic to attack anyone, but the theory was simple enough. Fury and fear built in her, at these two men who were so ruthlessly torturing Mason. Hell, even if it hadn't been someone she knew and had reason to care about, she would want to stop this. She directed her power at Noah first, and then at her father.

It didn't come as easily as she knew it would if she were physically there. Still, both Rittenhouse members let out sounds of shock and pain, and drew back from their prisoner. “She's here,” said Noah, staring around. His gaze didn't seem to find Lucy.

“Did you get what we needed?” her father snarled, one hand to his head.

“I think so,” Noah replied. He was wincing, and he looked scared now. But at Cahill's threatening glare, he quickly said, “No, I did. I know I did.”

“Then we're done.” Before Lucy could react, Cahill laid a hand on Mason's shoulder. The prisoner let out a gasping scream, and then was still.

“No!”

Lucy only realized she had screamed the word out loud when she felt a hand on her arm. She shook it off violently – and then saw she was back in the space between the SUVs outside Mason's house. With Wyatt, Rufus, and Agent Christopher. It had probably been Wyatt who had touched her, judging by the way his hands were raised in a placating gesture. But she couldn't even spare a moment for that. “We need to get to him, right now! They're torturing him.”

Rufus swore. “Where is he? Lucy, did you see?”

To her surprise, Lucy found that she did have more than just a description of the basement Mason had been in. Her 'travel' to that spot had left enough of an impression in the back of her mind that she could give almost specific directions as to where she had gone.

From there, things started to happen very fast. Agent Christopher barked out orders to everyone there, and several teams set out toward the location where (Lucy hoped fervently) Mason was still being held. And where he was still alive. Lucy hurried into the SUV with Wyatt and Rufus. They weren't going to be in the lead car, but no one was going to tell them to wait behind, either. Especially in case Rittenhouse had left more traps at this location, too.

But Lucy's quick search upon their arrival revealed nothing – except a lack of signs of life. Or at least she couldn't find anyone at first. A panicked, desperate second look led them all to Connor Mason's unconscious form, crumpled in a heap outside the back door of the old house.

“He's really alive,” Lucy breathed, watching as EMTs hurried to load him onto a stretcher. She shut her eyes briefly. “Thank God.” They would take him to the infirmary at his own company, since none of them trusted any hospital to be completely free from Rittenhouse influence.

Rufus let out a shaky sigh. “He looks like he's gone five rounds against a Sith Lord, but yeah, he's alive.” Then he glanced at Lucy. “Um, sorry. Not meaning to insinuate anything.”

With something that almost sounded like a laugh, Lucy said, “No, I don't think that comparison is too far off, from what I saw.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “In which case, does that make me Luke?”

“Only if I can be Han,” said Rufus immediately. “Which makes Jiya Leia, I guess.”

“Leaving me as what, Chewbacca?” Wyatt snorted. “Thanks, man.”

Lucy laughed much more genuinely, as the ambulance with Mason inside started to drive away. Mason was going to be okay. They had found him in time. She and her teammates started to walk back to their vehicle. “Rufus _is_ the hotshot pilot of our group, you know,” she pointed out.

“Exactly,” said Rufus in satisfaction. “Plus, Chewie's a badass fighter, Wyatt. You should be flattered.”

“Okay,” Wyatt conceded, “but I feel like I should bring up the fact that I'm the only one of us who actually has a magical sword made of light.”

Rufus's jaw dropped, and then he sighed. “That's not even fair.”

“Fair or not,” said Agent Christopher, coming up behind them suddenly, “I suggest a new strategy: let the Wookie win.”

The three of them gave the agent identical astonished looks, and then Rufus laughed. “I'm going to tell Jiya,” he said with a grin. “She's totally outnumbered.”

“I'll deny everything,” was Agent Christopher's response. She flashed a quick smile, and then said, “See you three back at Mason Industries. Lucy, you did good work.”

Rufus and Wyatt echoed the other woman's words as they all got into their SUV. “I'm going to make sure Connor knows he was saved thanks to you,” said Rufus.

Lucy blushed, and decided not to tell him that she was pretty sure Mason already knew – or at least, he had known before those horrifying attacks on his mind. Maybe he wouldn't remember any of it now. She wished suddenly that she had stepped in to stop her father and ex-fiance much sooner. As it was, she was already going to hold herself responsible for any lasting damage Mason might have incurred, and for any information Rittenhouse had forced him to reveal.

~


	8. Chapter 8

~~  
Rufus stood in the doorway of Mason's room at the infirmary, trying to tell himself to go inside already. The doctor had said he was ready for visitors – and also that all of his test results looked good. He had also given Rufus the jaw-dropping news that Mr. Mason had listed Rufus Carlin as his emergency medical contact, which meant Rufus was entitled to more medical details than the others, if he wanted them. Rufus hadn't said yes to that yet. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind around being _Connor Mason's_ emergency medical contact.

Finally, he took a breath and went into the room, shutting the door behind him. If his mentor and – yes, he could use the word 'friend' – was about to wake up, someone needed to be there for him. And while he was sure Agent Christopher was ready to learn what Mason had to report about his kidnapping, she also wasn't going to pressure him into making any kind of statement yet. After all, he was recovering from a concussion (not to mention the bruises all over his face and on his wrists).

Rufus had only been sitting next to Connor's bed for maybe five minutes when the patient started to stir. A moment later, he opened his eyes. A moment after that, he turned his head slightly toward Rufus. He blinked slowly. “Rufus,” he said. There was a pause. “I expected to be in more pain when I woke up.”

Chuckling, Rufus said, “Well, I'm guessing they have you on some pretty good painkillers right now.”

“I suppose they would, wouldn't they?” Connor was speaking more slowly and deliberately than usual, which would have been funny if his cut lip and bruises weren't so starkly obvious. “Good. That makes me happier to be awake.”

“And we're all really glad you're here, and that you're okay.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry it took us so long to get to you.”

The other man shook his head, and then winced. “Ooh. That was a poor decision. But I'm not going to blame any of you for this. It's all on Rittenhouse.”

Rufus nodded at that. Then he stared down at his hands. “So you, uh, you made me your emergency contact. That's new, right?”

Connor smiled. “Not really, no,” he said. “It hasn't been my ex-wife for a number of years now.”

At that, he raised his eyes to meet his boss's again. “Oh.” That was … unexpected, yet again. And now he was kind of feeling choked-up. He cleared his throat again.

“We can talk more about that later, if you wish,” he said, after another pause. “Right now, I think I should inform Agent Christopher and the rest of the team about what Rittenhouse got out of me. It's somewhat urgent.”

“I'll go get them,” said Rufus, standing up right away. He felt a little guilty for his feeling of relief that they didn't have to have a deep, emotional conversation right now. Maybe later, he told himself.

It was kind of a tight fit to try to get Lucy, Wyatt, Jiya, and Agent Christopher in the room along with Mason and Rufus. In fact, Rufus wasn't surprised, given the cramped quarters, that Wyatt and Lucy volunteered to stand just outside the open door in the hall.

Once everyone was more or less ready, Connor got started. “I have good news and bad news to share. But before I get into that, I want to thank you all for everything you did to find me. I know I haven't always made it easy for any of you to trust me, but I'm more grateful than I can say for the rescue.”

After a beat, Agent Christopher spoke up. “You're part of the team now. The past is past. Or at least, it usually is.”

Several people in the room chuckled, including Connor. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You should mostly be thanking Lucy,” Rufus said then, gesturing to where she was standing in the doorway. “She did pretty much all of the finding.”

While Jiya, Wyatt, and Agent Christopher chimed in with their agreement, and Lucy tried to downplay it, Connor looked pensive. “I don't remember everything that happened while I was in that basement,” he said, “but I do recall that Cahill and the other Rittenhouse mage were talking about you, Lucy. They were worried about when you would show up. I didn't see you arrive, but I did hear enough to know you stopped them from continuing to torture me. So thank you.”

This time, Lucy didn't say anything at all in response. When he glanced at her, Rufus saw how uncomfortable, maybe even guilty, she looked. He frowned.

“Now, onto the bad news,” said Connor then. He cleared his throat. “I'm not sure how much Lucy has told you of what she saw when she found me.”

“We heard that Cahill was there,” Wyatt said, “and another mage.”

“Who turned out to be my ex-fiance, Noah,” Lucy put in then. If her tone was bitter, well, Rufus could hardly blame her. As if she had needed any more family or quasi-family connections to Rittenhouse.

“Yes, well, that's correct of course,” Connor said. “Cahill was calling the shots. He arranged this whole thing in order to find out what we have planned regarding the Lifeboat's link with the Mothership.”

Rufus shut his eyes. “Of course.” What else would Rittenhouse want, other than information to keep their team from continuing to interfere with Emma's trips?

“And the bad news comes out of that. Try as I might, I couldn't keep them from seeing what they were aiming to see in my mind.” He stared down at the hospital bed sheet. “Long story short, Rittenhouse knows about our progress toward using the existing link between the two ships' CPUs to hack into the Mothership's mainframe, in order to see Emma's destination as soon as it's programmed in. I expect any engineers or programmers they have access to will be able to use that information to protect the Mothership from that particular type of attack.”

“Damn,” said Rufus softly. He didn't want to make Connor feel any worse for having been forced to give up that information, but it was a real blow. Emma no longer having any head start for her jumps would have been a huge advantage for them – or anyway, it would have removed a huge advantage from the rogue pilot.

“I know,” said Connor, sighing and leaning back against his pillows. “I'm sorry. I wish I'd fought harder.”

“You have no training or experience fighting off a mental attack,” said Agent Christopher. “It may seem impossible to convince yourself right now, but this wasn't your fault.”

Connor gave a bitter smile. “I appreciate you saying so, Denise. But I can never forget even for a moment that all of this, this whole mess from the beginning until now, is in large part my fault. These are my machines, and I put this technology into the world. And then I accepted Rittenhouse's funding. I deserve everything I've gotten, and more.”

The silence after that was definitely awkward. Rufus had no comfort to offer, given how often he'd had similar thoughts about his contributions to the invention of time travel.

“What was the good news?”

It was Wyatt who spoke up then, from the doorway to the room.

“What?” Connor blinked.

“Yeah, you said you had bad news and good news,” Jiya said. “We've heard the bad.”

“Ah.” His expression cleared. “Well, it's not much compared to everything else, but I can state with a high degree of certainty that Rittenhouse does not know of a way to sever the link between the two machines' CPUs.”

Jiya turned to stare at Rufus. Rufus wished he could clarify things for her, but he was just as lost. “Um, great?”

Connor gave a sheepish grin. “I suppose that would have been more comforting to hear if I had bothered to share that for the past month or so, I've been investigating what would need to be done in order to cut that link. I believe it is possible. Thankfully, neither Cahill nor this Noah should have any idea that I believe that. As far as I know.”

It wasn't a lot, but given the new information that such a thing was even possible, Rufus was relieved that Connor had been able to safeguard that fact. “Well, in that case, yes, that is good news.”

“But it would have been nice to know about it earlier,” added Jiya with a frown.

“I kept it to myself precisely for this sort of reason,” Connor said. He looked exasperated. “I didn't want any of you to be vulnerable in case Rittenhouse had you cornered.”

“As noble as that is,” Agent Christopher interjected, sounding just as exasperated, “I thought we had all agreed to share all of our useful intel in common.”

“Yeah,” said Jiya. She put her hands on her hips. “Plus, if you had told Rufus and me about this, we could have been working on a way to protect the Lifeboat already.”

“All right, all right.” Connor raised his hands. “I get the point. In the future, I will endeavor to be less noble.”

Rufus smiled, scoffed, and shook his head. His mentor might have grown a lot in the past couple of months, but there were still a lot of things that were the same about him.

“Anything else?” Agent Christopher asked then. “Anything you noticed or overheard that might be helpful to us?”

The man was just about to shake his head when he froze. “Wait. Hang on. Now that you mention it...”

“So there's something?” said the agent.

Connor looked uncertain. “I-- I don't even know how I know this,” he said, eyes wide. “Perhaps … it happened somehow when Noah was attacking my mind. Some kind of unintentional glimpse into his own mind.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It seemed like more bad news, though, I'm afraid.”

When Connor went on to describe having seen a glimpse of a dimly lit warehouse full of people hard at work sewing odd-looking garments, Rufus definitely got a chill. He could think of no non-terrifying reason a Rittenhouse member would have seen that. And when Mason added the detail that he had gotten the strong feeling this was just one small part of larger preparations, that chill got colder.

“All right,” said Wyatt, into the silence that followed, “so, Rittenhouse is preparing for something big. That's not exactly surprising.”

“Something that involves a creepy ceremony, I'm guessing,” Jiya muttered. “I mean, what else do you make special clothes for, if you're a bunch of power-hungry old nutjobs working in the shadows?”

“We'll increase security on the building, and on each of you,” said Agent Christopher. “And I expect Jiya, Rufus, and anyone else who can to keep working on increasing cyber security, as well.”

The hospital room meeting didn't last much longer than that. The doctor said Mr. Mason would be cleared to be released after a few more hours of observation, which was good. Before everyone dispersed, though, Connor said he remembered one more thing from his ordeal. “I know it won't be much consolation, Lucy, but from what I observed, Noah was very reluctant to be a part of this. He was … he was frightened of your father, and I believe he would have rather not been involved in kidnapping or torture.”

From what Rufus saw, Lucy was not, in fact, very comforted by this. But she did nod. “Thank you for telling me that.”

~~  
Two Days Later

Wyatt didn't know what had woken him up that morning. It was early – not insanely early, but still dark out. He'd been sleeping pretty solidly. But when he rolled over, the other side of the bed was empty. The sheets were cool to the touch.

Wyatt sat up, blinking and trying to make his brain wake up completely. Lucy. Lucy wasn't asleep next to him. That didn't mean he needed to worry, necessarily, but he did need to find out what was going on.

Yawning and stretching out his wings for a moment, Wyatt got out of bed, grabbing a shirt from his dresser as he passed it. She wasn't in the bathroom; the door was open and the light was off. He headed out of the room and down the hall. “Lucy?”

After a pause, he heard her voice from the living room area. “I'm here.”

“You okay?” He yawned again. There was basically no light coming in around the curtains out here. When he saw Lucy, though, even the dim light was enough to see that something was wrong. She was sitting curled up on the couch, with what looked like a tissue crumpled in her hand. He swallowed and took a step toward her. “Lucy?”

She looked up. “Hi,” she said, with a tremulous smile. “I-- I didn't mean to wake you.”

“I don't think you did,” he said, and came closer. When she didn't look away, he sat down next to her. “What's going on?”

She didn't reply for several long seconds. Instead, she stared down at her hands. Just as Wyatt was about to ask again, though, she took a shaky breath. “I bought a box of pregnancy tests last night.”

He gaped at her. That had not been on the list of things he had been expecting he might hear. But she didn't give him a chance to even start to process this comment and its implications before she went on, “I didn't really sleep last night – not much more than a few hours, anyway. I got up about an hour ago and-- and took the tests. Three of them.”

She paused then, and Wyatt couldn't stop himself from asking, “What was the result?”

“That's-- that's just it,” she said, with a helpless little laugh that didn't sound happy in the least. “I don't know. I guess-- I mean, I took the first one, and it was positive, and then I was so terrified and happy and, and a bunch of other things that I took the next one, and I was kind of hoping it wouldn't be positive this time. And it wasn't. So then I was confused, and scared, and relieved, and kind of-- well, devastated, so I took the third one. And then it didn't give me either a positive or a negative.”

Wyatt let out a breath. He had to believe the roller coaster of emotions he'd just gone through, while only listening to all this, was nothing compared to what she'd endured. By herself. Silently, apparently, since she most likely had taken the tests in the bathroom adjoining their bedroom and he hadn't heard a thing. He reached out and took her hands. “What do you think that all means?” he made himself ask, in a gentle tone.

“I don't know,” she said, shrugging and staring at him for a second before looking away. “That I'm going crazy?” She laughed again, mirthless. “The-- the only other thing I can think is … maybe it's something that happened because I'm an elf. Or … I did something to the tests, without knowing I was doing it, with magic? Otherwise there's just the 'crazy' option...”

He squeezed her hands. “You're not crazy.” She didn't look all that reassured. In fact, she looked like she might start crying at any moment. Wyatt bit his lip. If he let himself think about it, he probably wouldn't be far behind her, but there were things they needed to do first. “Did you throw the tests away?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head once. “They're, um, on the floor in your bathroom. On a paper towel.”

He almost smiled at the vaguely embarrassed tone of her voice for that last phrase. Standing up, he tugged on her hands gently. “Come on,” he said. “We'll both go look at them. That will at least prove you're not crazy, when I see the results, too.”

“If,” she muttered, but followed him without protest.

The two of them squinted a little when Wyatt turned on the light in the bathroom. Lucy bent down and picked up the paper towel with the three tests on it. She glanced at them, then passed the whole thing to him wordlessly.

He didn't bother to try to prepare himself before looking for himself. What the hell could get him ready for any of the possible results? But as it turned out, each of the three tests showed what Lucy had described: one positive, one negative, and one that was just all sort of filled in. He sighed, set the towel down on the lid of the toilet, and turned to her. “You're not crazy. I see the same things you told me you saw.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay.” Then she sniffed. “But that just means neither of us knows.”

“That's true.” He put an arm around her. “So we go to the doctor today. Get a blood test.”

She leaned into him at first, but then pulled away. “We can't! We can't just-- go to a doctor, Wyatt. We don't know--” Her voice broke, but she kept going. “We don't know who we can trust! After what happened with Mason, we have even more evidence of their reach. We can't take the risk – I can't take the risk – that the doctor will be Rittenhouse, and then they'll know if … if I'm pregnant or not. Wyatt, you said it yourself, we know they're planning something big. And even without that, I know that any child of mine, of ours, they'll...” At that, the last of her composure crumbled, and she put her hands over her face as she started to sob.

“Hey, hey, shh,” Wyatt said, feeling tears prick at his own eyes. He pulled her close again, and she wrapped her arms around him. He shut his eyes. This wasn't fair. He already knew – they had talked about it once, back in 1754 when it looked like the Shoshone were going to kill them all – that both he and Lucy wanted children. Of course, that had been before Lucy found out about her father … and well before the revelation about her mother, her Rittyn heritage, and his Brightstar heritage. It was no wonder she was scared. He was, too. But he hated the fact that they had such good reason to be scared about something that should have only been exciting.

After she had started to calm herself, Wyatt cleared his throat. “I bet Agent Christopher knows a doctor who would be trustworthy,” he said, as he continued to hold her. “We can start there.”

Lucy took in a ragged breath. “One problem at a time, huh?”

“Exactly.”

She pulled away to look at him, wiping a tear off her face. “How can you be so calm about all of this?”

“Calm?” He dropped his hands to his side and turned away. Did she really think that? “I'm barely holding it together, Lucy. I'm just as scared and worried as you are, and God, so damn _angry_ at those Rittenhouse assholes that sometimes I can't even think straight!” His right arm heated, and he tried to breathe deeply. He didn't actually want to produce his blade and start destroying stuff, much as that would give him a moment of satisfaction and release. “I don't want it to be like this,” he said, leaning his hands on the bathroom counter and staring into the sink. “I don't want us to be looking over our shoulders all the time. I just want us to be together, and yeah, I want a family.”

He was pretty sure his voice hadn't stayed even that time. Lucy laid a hand on his back. “I want those things, too,” she said quietly. “And I'm sorry – I shouldn't have doubted the strength of your feelings.”

He nodded.

Silence fell after that, until Lucy yawned a half-second after Wyatt had stood up and done so himself. She smiled at him, a little hesitant but sincere. “Come on. Let's see if we can get any more sleep.”

“I guess it's worth a shot.” Wyatt wasn't optimistic that either of them would do anything more than lie awake, but it would probably still be better to lie down for a few hours than to stand in the bathroom worrying, anyway.

When they were both back in bed, they lay on their backs for a while, quiet. As he had expected, Wyatt didn't feel at all like sleep was possible. He sighed. Then, just as he was about to turn toward Lucy, he saw that she was already turning to face him. Smiling, he opened his arms, and she moved over to burrow into his embrace.

They stayed just like that for another few minutes. Wyatt closed his eyes, breathing her in. Then, slowly, he moved one of his hands to rest it on Lucy's belly. “So,” he said. “You thought – you think you might be pregnant.”

She nodded. He could feel some tension still lingering in her, though she didn't flinch away from his touch. “You know I've been on the pill. I haven't missed any doses, but … I'm a couple of days late. In my cycle.”

Wyatt opened his eyes. It was hard, trying to keep himself and his thoughts in the moment, instead of imagining what their future could be like in all of nine months. A little boy, or a little girl – with a smile like Lucy's, maybe her eyes, or maybe his own … but always with the threat of Rittenhouse in the background, too. From what Lucy had said three months ago, her parents were actually pleased that she had deviated from their plans for her and found herself a Brightstar instead of another elf mage. They were excited about him as an addition to their precious bloodlines. The thought made him furious again, so he breathed slowly and deliberately. There had to be a way for them to protect their child.

“Wyatt, I know we said one problem at a time,” said Lucy then, a tinge of desperation in her voice, “but … we have to plan something. In case we-- we do have a child's welfare to consider.”

He sighed and nodded. Clearly she was thinking along the same lines as he was. “What do we know about Rittenhouse – or the House of Rittyn, I guess? About their reach in the Wild Lands?”

Lucy shrugged. “Not much. Only what we both read in that history book, back in 1973.” Then she raised her head. “Are you thinking about us going into hiding over there?”

“Something like that,” he told her. There was no reason to try to keep that idea to himself. “We could stay there temporarily, or maybe even for a few years. I'm betting it would be a lot harder for anyone to find us over there.” Plus, he'd been doing some research, and he'd learned that anyone who was full-blood or half-blood fae, even if born in the human world, didn't usually get much scrutiny at the Boundary crossings if they had ID papers that said as much. He and Lucy had already reregistered with their proper heritage after they had discovered it.

She bit her lip. “But … Emma isn't going to stop taking out the Mothership,” she pointed out. “Like you said before, we can't just leave Rufus to deal with it by himself – can we?”

Wyatt sighed again. “I don't want to leave it all for Rufus to deal with. Of course I don't.” He stroked his hand over her belly, once again feeling that overwhelming mixture of excitement, joy, terror, anger, and a fierce need to keep them both safe. “But if we have a kid to protect, that has to take priority. And I think he'd understand.”

“I think he would,” agreed Lucy, though she still looked unsatisfied. She covered his hand with hers. “Agent Christopher probably would, too.”

“Really?” He'd just been assuming they would have to fight Agent Christopher to get her to let them do this, but Lucy hadn't hesitated in saying the agent would be on their side.

“Yeah. She has a family, too.”

That made sense, then. It was kind of a relief to hear, too.

After their discussion, Wyatt fell into a shallow, restless sleep that lasted until his alarm went off. He certainly didn't feel rested after that kind of a morning, but at least he didn't remember having had any nightmares. There would probably be plenty of time for those in the coming months.

~~  
Lucy was pretty sure she'd never been more restless at a doctor's office in her life. She didn't have any particular phobias of going to the doctor, though of course there were parts of any doctor's visit that she didn't enjoy. But this … this was different.

Wyatt had given up trying to get her to relax, though he had his arm around her shoulders from the seat next to her. And he was a calming influence. If he hadn't been here, Lucy was sure she would be pacing around the waiting room instead of sitting. Still. No one would mistake her for at ease.

She looked up at the receptionist for the dozenth time. The woman was on the phone with some other patient – which was perfectly normal. Agent Christopher had sworn that this little clinic was safe for them to go to, and that she would even see to it that the records of their visit disappeared after they left. Hell, they had even gone so far as to sign in under fake names. But Lucy still found herself imagining that the receptionist might not actually be talking to a patient. She could be using that as a cover, while she reported to some Rittenhouse agent that Lucy Preston was here with Wyatt Logan to take a pregnancy test. And then there would be men in suits waiting outside the clinic – or maybe they wouldn't even wait outside. Maybe they would come inside and drag them both off into some unmarked car.

“Lucy,” whispered Wyatt then, his face at her ear, “you're worrying again. I can practically feel it.”

She scoffed, but didn't deny it. “I wish I'd brought something to do while we wait, at least.”

It was his turn to scoff at that. “And what could you have possibly brought that you'd be able to concentrate on right now?”

She met his gaze then, and saw the hints of anxiety in his expression. The question he had just asked her would probably hold true for him, too, she guessed.

Finally, somehow, another hour passed, and the doctor who had seen them came out. “Mr. and Mrs. Quinn? I'd like to discuss the results of your test with you, if you'll come on back.”

Lucy's heart, which had already been beating fast, sped up even more. It didn't make much sense for the doctor to want to talk with them, unless the blood test had come back positive. It had to be positive. She took a breath and stood up, with Wyatt right behind her.

Once the doctor had led them into a consultation room, Lucy sat down, folding her hands in her lap as Wyatt sat next to her. The doctor (whose name Lucy thought was Williams) smiled at her as she sat down across from them. “I hope I'm not overstepping in any way if I say I'd like to be the first to offer you both congratulations,” she said.

Lucy shut her eyes for a second, blindly reaching out for Wyatt's hand. He seized it. “It's positive,” she said, opening her eyes.

“Yes, it is,” said Dr. Williams. She was watching them closely as she went on, “Based on the hormone levels in your blood and the information you gave me, Lily, I can give you a very rough estimate and say that you're probably not more than four weeks along. We'll have to wait until your first ultrasound to be more specific.”

That made sense, Lucy thought, based on her cycle. She swallowed and met Wyatt's eyes. He looked like he was trying to hold back his emotions – much like she was.

“Lily, you had mentioned to me that you've been on the pill,” said Dr. Williams then, glancing between the two of them. “Unless you two decide you'd rather terminate the pregnancy--”

“No,” Lucy interjected, tightening her grip on Wyatt's hand. He leaned in closer to her. “No, it's not-- it's not that we don't want children. We just... Now wasn't when we'd hoped.”

The doctor nodded, and looked sympathetic. “Well, in that case, I can offer you my best wishes along with my congratulations. Unfortunately, as you likely already knew before today, the pill isn't one hundred percent effective.”

She nodded, and then looked down at her lap. Agent Christopher had said this woman was trustworthy. She could probably answer this question, at least. “I was-- I was wondering if its effectiveness or lack thereof could have anything to do with the fact that I'm fae.”

When she looked up, Dr. Williams didn't appear surprised. “Yes, the most commonly prescribed birth control pills – including the kind you informed me you've been on – do vary in effectiveness for part-fae and full-blood fae,” she told them. Then she cocked an eyebrow. “In fact, I'm confused as to why your regular doctor would have gone with the option he or she ended up giving you.”

Lucy could have explained that she hadn't told her regular doctor about her newly-discovered heritage (which hadn't been a good decision, she could recognize now), but instead she just shrugged. It was very unlikely that she'd be coming back to this clinic again, assuming she and Wyatt followed through on their plans to hide away in the Wild Lands.

She didn't remember much more of the consultation after that. She was pretty sure it hadn't gone on for much longer. Wyatt had taken over the conversation. She knew she could trust that he would remember any important details Dr. Williams might have for them. God. For the two of them, and for their baby that was already growing inside her at this exact moment. They officially had another person to worry about – and to look forward to, if that was even going to be possible in these circumstances.

She thanked Dr. Williams alongside Wyatt as they stood up to leave. It was only after they had left the clinic that a thought occurred to her, and she stopped moving. “Damn it.”

“What? Lucy, are you okay?” He was right there, reaching out for her and looking her over in concern.

“I'm-- I'm fine,” she assured him, though her voice shook. She wiped at her eyes, willing away the tears that had just started to threaten. “It's just … this is news I'd normally really want to share. There are two people in particular I want to tell, in fact, but I can't tell either of them.”

It only took a second for comprehension to dawn. Wyatt sighed and murmured, “Amy and your mom. God, I'm sorry, Lucy.”

“Yeah.” Lucy sniffed.

As they walked back to the car, Wyatt gave her an almost shy smile. “Hey, but at least we get to tell Rufus, huh?”

“And Jiya,” she added, smiling in return. In spite of everything, that was a pretty cool thought. She got into the passenger's seat. “Wyatt.”

“Yeah?” He paused in the act of starting the car.

She reached out and laid a hand on his thigh. “Even though I'm really scared about a lot of things surrounding all of this … I still can't wait to meet our baby.” Saying those words was enough to give her a thrill.

The light in his eyes right then, added to his smile, almost made her feel like crying again. He nodded once, and squeezed her hand. “Me, too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

They drove to Mason Industries in easier silence. Lucy was sure they were both still considering all the issues, but at least they knew for sure they had something to protect. Or someone.

Agent Christopher ushered them quickly to one of the small conference rooms, shutting the blinds and locking the door behind them. “So. You have news for me.”

“Yes, ma'am, we do,” said Wyatt. He looked at Lucy, and when she nodded, he said, “But we'd like to tell Rufus and Jiya now, too, since this is going to affect them directly.”

“Then I think I can guess what your news is,” she remarked. “But I also see your point.”

Lucy was glad they didn't have to wait long for their friends to arrive. She couldn't stand any more waiting in suspense today. She also wasn't sad that Mason wasn't around at the moment. Christopher hadn't mentioned him, and she wasn't going to ask what business was keeping him away. Not that she wasn't glad he was on their side, but she just didn't feel ready to share this information with him.

“What's going on?” Rufus asked, as he came into the room and (she assumed) saw their serious expressions. “Is something wrong? Emma isn't jumping again, right? Because I was just down by the Lifeboat, and I didn't hear any alarms--”

“No, this has nothing to do with Emma,” said Agent Christopher. “How about you two sit down?”

Lucy suppressed an urge to laugh at that. Did the woman really think their news was so shocking that Jiya and Rufus needed to be sitting to hear it? But since she didn't want to make her friends worry she might be crazy, she just cleared her throat instead of laughing.

As it turned out, Jiya started them all down the right path for their news without prompting. “Wait,” she said, staring at the two of them and how they were seated together. She narrowed her eyes. “Is this some kind of special announcement? From the two of you?” 

Wyatt gave Lucy a look that was approaching amused before telling Jiya, “Well, yeah, actually. It is.”

A second later, Jiya's eyes widened. She put her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God!” she shrieked, muffling the sound through her hands. “Really?”

“Really,” said Lucy, with a tiny smile. To Rufus, who still looked confused and concerned, she explained, “We're, um, we're going to have a baby.” There. She had said it, yet again. Each time made it feel a little more real. Wyatt took her hand.

Rufus's eyes got huge. He looked from her to Wyatt, who nodded, ducked his head, and grinned. Then Rufus let out his own exultant cry. “You-- That's awesome! Congratulations, guys!” Jiya added her own enthusiastic congrats.

Lucy allowed herself to feel the excitement and happiness that were mostly buried by fear right now. “Thanks, Rufus. Thanks, Jiya,” she said. “But, um, obviously this is going to have to mean some changes for us, and we wanted to be sure to talk with you about all of it before we just decide anything.”

“Mostly,” Wyatt clarified, “we're thinking about the issue of Lucy's safety, and the baby's safety. We can't just keep working the way we have been.”

Reflexively, Lucy was about to protest the way he was making it all about her need for protection, and not mentioning his. But then she gave herself a mental shake. There was no time for distraction. “And part of the issue of safety – a big part of it – is because we can't let Rittenhouse know about this,” she said. Willing her voice to stay steady, she went on, “My-- my family would see a child as a valuable resource for them to exploit.”

“My God,” said Rufus. He looked horrified. “That's seriously messed-up.”

“Deeply,” agreed Jiya. She bit her lip. “Does that mean you guys have to go into hiding, or something?”

Wyatt's gaze went to Agent Christopher. “That's our idea. We're thinking we'll move to the Wild Lands for a while, at least until the baby is born. Of course we're not happy about leaving you guys behind, but neither of us can see another solution.”

“We're open to input, of course,” Lucy added. She was still fighting an irritating urge to cry.

Agent Christopher looked thoughtful. “Well, we can hope that you wouldn't have to stay away for too long,” she said. “After all, we want to stop Rittenhouse sooner rather than later, if at all possible. Maybe this is the motivation we need to do just that.”

Lucy could see the rigidity in Wyatt's shoulders, although he was outwardly mostly calm. “Ma'am, are you giving us permission to step away?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think I wouldn't? I'm not about to put a child at risk, or its parents. Now, do I wish the timing had been a little better? Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that your safety is a priority.”

“Thank you,” said Wyatt, his voice gruff again.

“Yes, thank you for that,” Lucy added. Then she looked toward Rufus and Jiya. “And you two? You're – okay with this? We'd be getting rid of two-thirds of the Lifeboat team, and Jiya, we never quite figured out what happened to you last time you went with us in the machine. I don't-- I just, I feel like we're abandoning you. All of you.”

“Go,” said Rufus firmly, meeting her gaze. “We'll hold down the fort here. If we need some advice, we'll find some safe way to contact you. But--” and he glanced at Agent Christopher before going on, “even if you two didn't have permission to put your trips in the Lifeboat on hold, I'd tell you to go. I'm not going to be the guy who puts your entire family at risk.”

“Plus,” said Jiya then, with an unhappy smile, “we have no idea what the effect of time travel would be on an unborn child, even if there weren't the risk of you getting shot, or poisoned, or kidnapped, or whatever else. Pretty sure no one at Mason Industries has even started to theorize about that.”

“Turned out kind of messy on _Doctor Who_ ,” Rufus muttered. When everyone else gave him a look, he just shrugged. “What? It's true.”

Wyatt, evidently deciding to ignore that comment, said, “We appreciate your support, guys, but speaking of being shot, or poisoned, or kidnapped, we're also still worried about the likelihood that Emma's going to keep up her activities, and you won't have your historian or your guard with you.”

“Let us worry about that,” said Agent Christopher. “You have something more urgent and much more personal to focus on. And I'm not going to send Rufus or Jiya after Emma without adequate protection and preparation.”

As Rufus and Jiya voiced their own reassurances, a thought occurred to Lucy. It didn't exactly make her happy, but she couldn't deny it had some merit. “I hate to bring this up,” she said, in the next pause in the discussion, “but we do know of someone who could fill the guard role, at least. And he's also fairly knowledgeable about history. Just for while Wyatt and I aren't available.”

The three others in the room stared at her. It was obvious when who she was referring to occurred to each of them.

“Don't tell me you're talking about who I think you're talking about,” said Wyatt, almost in a growl.

“No,” Agent Christopher said, with a shake of her head. “Lucy, that is out of the question.”

“Why?” Lucy asked sharply. “It's not like we'd be taking him away from something he needs to be doing. He's just sitting in a cell in some black site somewhere, isn't he?”

“And how exactly would we trust him, even if we did get him out of prison?” Rufus demanded. “We are talking about Garcia Flynn, right? The man who got me shot, and has tried to kill all three of us more than a few times? Just because he agreed to work with us that once...”

Lucy sighed. “I know. I'm not going to try to excuse the inexcusable. But we wouldn't have been able to take down those Rittenhouse members Ethan knew about without his help. Plus, I know he'd be interested in trying to stop Emma.”

“He also thinks you betrayed him,” Wyatt pointed out. “So any goodwill we might have built with the guy is more than likely gone by now. Especially after months in whatever hellhole he's in right now.” He glanced at Agent Christopher but did not apologize for his characterization of government holding facilities. The woman looked faintly amused for a moment.

“Okay,” said Lucy, after a pause, “what if we-- if we just went and talked to him? Explained a little bit of the situation to him, and then see what he says. How he reacts. Wyatt, you'd be able to tell if he was lying or concealing the truth.”

Now Wyatt looked even less pleased. “So you're, what, suggesting _you and I_ go see Flynn? And tell him the reason why we can't keep doing our job?”

She bit her lip. “He had a family,” she said quietly. “He knows what it's like to, to have that destroyed by Rittenhouse.”

Silence fell in the room. Then Wyatt let out a breath. “All right. Fine. I'm willing to try. That is, if this is something you'd even want, Rufus. And if you give your permission and make it happen, ma'am.” This was directed to Agent Christopher.

Rufus looked at Jiya. She shrugged. “You know I'm not a fan of the guy,” she said, “but I'm also not a fan of the idea of you going back in time with no one to watch your back. Assuming Flynn can even be trusted enough to watch your back.”

In the end, after more debate that felt endless to Lucy, Rufus agreed to at least hear what Flynn might say, and Agent Christopher reluctantly agreed to arrange the visit. Wyatt was still not happy with the whole idea, she could tell. But as they got into an unmarked Homeland Security vehicle to make the trip, Lucy was still glad they were doing this together.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted! I kept thinking for sure I'd be able to fit it in sometime before now, but it never quite worked out. Thanks for sticking around, anyway.
> 
> BTW, feel free to let me know if any of my computer terminology doesn't make sense.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really hoped to get another chapter up before a month went by. I didn't quite make it. Sorry about that! This chapter is a little shorter than some others, but the next ones should be longer.
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read along! Hope you enjoy reading some of Flynn's thoughts as much as I enjoyed writing from his POV.

~~  
After his hasty trial and the first several weeks of his sentence, Flynn had started to lose count of how many days he'd been in this dark, barely furnished cell. His surroundings never changed. The only way he was able to track the passage of time at all was by his instinctive sense of the phase of the moon, as it waxed full and then waned again. There wasn't even any point in transforming at the full moon, or any other time. The bars and walls of his cell were strong enough to withstand even a Wer's fiercest attacks. Besides, he thought darkly, why should he give his guards more reason to enjoy tormenting him?

He was dozing on the bare metal slab that served as his bed when he heard a sound from the stairwell down the hall. Instantly, he was alert. This was not a usual sound. This was not the change in shifts, or a guard bringing a meal. It had sounded a lot like someone collapsing to the ground. Oddly, this hadn't been preceded by the thud of a fist, or any kind of weapon noise.

Curious now, and just a bit alarmed, Flynn stood up. He would transform quite readily if the need arose – but either way, he wasn't going to be caught unaware.

The sound repeated a couple of times. Then, as he heard footsteps getting nearer, two very familiar scents reached him, and Flynn nearly swore out loud. What the hell were these two doing here?

The lock on his door rattled. Then Lucy called out, from the other side. “Flynn, it's Lucy. I'm here with Wyatt. We're going to open the door now. Please hear us out, and, um, please don't attack us or anything.”

Flynn scoffed. He was about to tell Lucy he didn't know why he should listen to her at all, given what had happened last time they interacted, when he noticed something strange. Both of them, both Lucy and that soldier of hers – their scents had changed. Oh, they were still recognizable, of course, but there was something different about each one. Which was baffling.

Lucy sounded even more uncertain after his lack of reply. “Okay. Opening it now.”

A second later, the door slid open, and Flynn saw his two visitors in the slightly brighter light of the hallway. He gasped. Lucy … Lucy was an elf. There was no doubt about that. She might as well have stepped out of the pages of the old illustrated faerie books his daughter had loved so much – other than the clothes she wore, which were decidedly human.

“Yeah,” said Lucy, with a wry look. “A lot has changed over the past several months.”

Once again, a sarcastic response was cut short when Flynn got a cleaner whiff of Wyatt's scent. The other man didn't look any different, but that scent... “What _are_ you?” Flynn breathed, staring at Wyatt.

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Uh, okay. Not anywhere close to what I was expecting here.”

Lucy looked between the two of them, frowning faintly. A second later, Flynn felt the brush of magic passing over him, and he shivered and turned his gaze back on her. “So not only an elf, but a mage,” he said. “Impressive. And I suppose, logical, given your family history.”

But Lucy hardly seemed to notice his words. “Wyatt, he's Wer,” she said tensely.

“Seriously?” Wyatt's eyes widened, and he immediately moved to stand partway in front of Lucy. “How the hell did none of us know that until now?”

“Because I don't make a habit of telling most people,” said Flynn with a sigh. He gestured at them, and was almost amused when they both flinched. “For exactly this reason. I'm not a wild beast, or whatever other ridiculous stereotype you've heard about us.”

After a short pause, Lucy pushed Wyatt away from her gently but firmly, giving him a look. “Fine. Anyway, we came to talk to you.”

“Clearly,” said Flynn, with a mocking smile. “You went to a lot of effort, too. Isn't it nice, that I am suddenly of such interest after you lied to me, betrayed me, and left me to rot in here for months?”

Lucy sighed, while Wyatt rolled his eyes. “I honestly didn't know I was being followed,” Lucy insisted. “I'm sorry. If it were up to me, you would have never been put in here. You would have had the chance to save your family.”

He cocked his head. Her heart rate was fast, but it hadn't sped up when she spoke just then. Perhaps she wasn't lying. Meanwhile, the new elements to her companion's scent continued to tease at him. He had never smelled anything like this before. The man looked human, just like he always had, but he obviously wasn't. “Say I want to believe you, Lucy,” he said, while regarding Wyatt. “Prove your trustworthiness. Tell me what's changed about your dear friend Wyatt here, or with apologies to you for all the trouble you must have gone through getting in here, I'll ask you both to leave.”

Wyatt was glaring at him now, and Lucy didn't look pleased, either. But then the two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, and Wyatt nodded, just slightly. Lucy turned back to Flynn. “We've both been to the Wild Lands since we last saw you. There was a spell that revealed our true natures. I'm an elf, obviously, and Wyatt...”

“Is a Brightstar,” Wyatt put in, when Lucy trailed off. “Okay? Can we get this over with now?”

Flynn's jaw dropped, and he staggered backward to sit down, hard, on his bench. “ _Zvijezda_ ," he breathed, and shook his head. No. This couldn't be possible. And yet... Didn't it fit with the man's character? His vocation, his concern for the welfare of bystanders, his skill at fighting, even the strength of his desire to bring about justice for his murdered wife – yes, it made sense. What else would explain the oddness of his scent, anyway? Flynn swallowed. And if that was true, he had fought against a creature of light without knowing it, and come close to killing him on more than one occasion. Truly, the stain on his soul was too great ever to be removed now.

And now the man looked like he was trying not to be concerned about him. “Look, I didn't know, either,” he said. “I'd never even heard of-- of Brightstars until someone in the Wild Lands told me what I was.”

“And now Rittenhouse knows,” Lucy interjected, before Flynn could try to form a response. “They know, and-- and they want to use us both.” She looked down, and put a hand to her stomach. Wyatt's expression softened. He took a step closer to her again, taking her other hand in his.

And Flynn got it. He inhaled sharply, and rubbed his hands over his face. The two of them had finally stopped dancing around each other, at some point in these past months. They were together. Flynn had no trouble recognizing the tenderness in the Brightstar's face and attitude toward Lucy. That was because he'd behaved that same way toward his wife – when she was pregnant with Iris. Grief rose up and threatened to choke him as it had so many times before, but Flynn pushed it back down. “What do you need from me?”

His voice came out harsher than he'd intended, but his visitors didn't seem bothered. “We wanted to ask you to help Rufus chase down Emma,” said Lucy. “Wyatt and I, we-- we have to step away from this.”

“We have to go into hiding,” Wyatt elaborated. “From Rittenhouse. They don't know about … the baby. We want to keep it that way.”

“Emma?” Flynn blinked. “She's Rittenhouse?”

“Yeah. She killed a bunch of Homeland Security agents and stole the Mothership, the same day you were taken into custody,” Wyatt said. “We've been trying to stop her since then.”

Flynn pursed his lips. How could he have not known this, the whole time he'd traveled with the woman? The thought was galling. He'd detected no hint of deception from her. Despite that, he couldn't resist a jab at the current situation. “Perhaps things would have turned out better if I'd been allowed my final trip in the Mothership, after all.”

“You already know I agree,” Lucy said, looking frustrated. “I hope that's not all you have to say, now that you've heard what's going on.”

He stood up, and started to pace the narrow confines of the cell. “So let me be sure I understand this: you want me to – what? Serve as a temporary placeholder for you two, while Rufus pilots?”

“If you want to put it that way,” said Wyatt. “Rufus can't do it all alone, and you already have plenty of experience.”

Flynn stopped pacing. “And what does Agent Christopher think about this plan?”

“She's not a fan,” the other man admitted with a shrug. “Hell, neither is Rufus. He hasn't exactly forgiven you for getting him shot. But they also agreed you're probably necessary to have around. If you can prove that you're trustworthy.”

He gave a wry smile. “So … they'll tolerate me. Very well.” He looked at Lucy. “Let me guess: once you two decide to come back to the human world, I return to these lovely accommodations.” And if he and Rufus did their job properly, he would be hastening the end of his own freedom by making it safe for Lucy and Wyatt to come back. Not that the idea of purposefully delaying the takedown of Emma and Rittenhouse was an appealing one.

“That's what Agent Christopher agreed to,” she said, looking away from Wyatt. Which was interesting, and the Brightstar did not fail to pick up on it.

“Come on, Lucy,” he said, exasperated, “that's what we _all_ agreed to! Don't do this again.”

“We can talk about it later,” was all she said.

“Later?” Flynn said. “So does that mean you're asking me to come with you right now?”

“No.” Wyatt shook his head. He looked at her again. “Lucy, if we try to force this right now, it could backfire in a huge way. Someone could get hurt, and Flynn could end up being taken somewhere Agent Christopher doesn't even know about. We have to do this the right way.”

“In that case, I agree,” said Flynn. “Much as I want to get out of here, I can't be helpful if I just end up getting put in a different prison right away.” Although of course if he had the chance to escape, he wasn't going to submit to capture again if he could help it.

“Fine.” Lucy didn't look pleased, but she didn't offer further protest.

“Okay.” The soldier glanced over his shoulder. “We should probably get out of here for now. But Agent Christopher has promised that if you agree to do this, she'll arrange your release – on a temporary trial basis.”

That sounded – well, it sounded like as much as he was going to be able to get, if he stuck to playing by the rules, anyway. “And how long do I have to wait before I have my temporary, trial-basis freedom?”

“It shouldn't be long,” Lucy said. She scanned his tiny cell. “I'll-- Wyatt and I will do our best to make sure you get out of here as fast as possible.”

Not just for his sake, Flynn was sure. But he nodded. “Okay. You know where I'll be.”

~~  
“So.” Rufus looked at the two of them. “This is it, huh?”

Wyatt looked at Lucy. She was biting her lip, and he could almost see the guilt and worry in her eyes even though she wasn't looking at him. “Yeah,” he answered Rufus. “I guess it is.”

“We're going to miss you guys,” said Jiya then, her voice quiet. “A lot.”

Lucy twisted her hands together. She glanced around the conference room, and her eyes lingered on the windows that overlooked the Lifeboat. “We'll miss you, too,” she said. “And-- I'm just, God, I'm just so--”

“You better not be about to apologize for having a kid,” said Rufus, raising his eyebrows. He was smiling, though, to take the sting out of his words. “Lucy, we're happy for you, and Wyatt. All of us are.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he said to Rufus, with a tiny smile. The smile faded quickly. He wished, for the dozenth time, that he and Lucy could just be excited and happy and anxious about this, like any new parents – instead of all of that being dwarfed in the shadow of Rittenhouse.

“That doesn't mean we're not going to be extra motivated to track down Emma and see if we can stop her, though,” their friend went on. “I mean, now we need to save history, stop Rittenhouse, _and_ get you guys back as soon as we can.”

Lucy let out a watery laugh. “Thanks, Rufus,” she said, wiping at her eyes with one hand. “It's, um, it's nice to be ranked that highly on your priority list.”

Right then, Agent Christopher came back into the room. She looked around the room, and then let out a breath. “I don't want to rush anything here, but I'm letting you two know that everything is ready on our end.”

Wyatt nodded. That was a relief to hear. It had been up in the air whether his COs were going to okay his full-time secondment to Homeland Security under Agent Christopher's command for the next year. If that hadn't worked out, he didn't know what he would have done. Going AWOL might have been his only option.

Meanwhile, Lucy had pulled herself together. “All right,” she said. “Um, I guess … I guess we're ready on this end, too.”

“You'll write when you can?” Rufus asked, as they started to move toward the door of the room.

Lucy assured him they would. The spell Lucy had set up, which involved actual hand-written letters that she would transport by magic across the Boundary, was going to be their primary means of communication. For a long time, most likely. Wyatt tried to ignore the sudden lump in his throat. This was real. This was about to happen.

“Feel free to let us know if there's anything we can do for you, once you get settled in over there and even after that,” said Agent Christopher. She smiled. “We all want you to stay safe, and happy, while you get ready for the new member of your family.”

“I'm betting it's a girl,” added Jiya. She came over and hugged Lucy tightly, and then gave the two of them a measuring gaze. “Not that any kid of yours, girl or boy, won't be the most adorable, beautiful, and oh yeah, wicked smart kid this world has ever known.”

Lucy chuckled again, and Wyatt smirked. He happened to agree. Especially if their kid took after Lucy more than him.

“Thanks, Jiya,” Lucy said. She gave Rufus another hug, and Wyatt followed suit. “We'll be sure to let you know when we know.”

Rufus grinned. “I'm counting on it. Otherwise how's your son or daughter's Uncle Rufus supposed to know what kinds of merch to buy for his niece or nephew?”

“We'll leave aside the inherent sexism in that question for the moment,” said Jiya with a roll of her eyes.

“Wait, what?” Rufus blinked. At Agent Christopher's pointed look, he said, “Um, right. Leaving that aside.”

It was here. There was no point drawing it out any longer. Wyatt took a breath. “Rufus,” he said, once again doing his best not to give in to sudden emotion, “we'll see you later. Stay safe. Don't let Flynn get on your nerves too much.”

“I will do my best,” promised the pilot.

“And I'll make sure to keep Flynn on a short leash,” Agent Christopher stated. Wyatt was sure he hadn't imagined Lucy's faint wince at that imagery; it wasn't like Christopher had any reason to know about Flynn's Wer status.

“All right.” Lucy looked at him, and then back at their friends. “See you later, guys. Thanks for-- well, thanks for everything. We couldn't do this without you.”

That was the truth. He and Lucy might be about to have a baby, but all of these people here had long since become their family.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation note: Google Translate informs me that " _zvijezda_ " is Croatian for "star". Anyone with actual knowledge of Croatian can feel more than free to correct me if I'm wrong.


	10. Chapter 10

~~  
One Week Later

Wyatt woke slowly as the sun's rays came in through the window. He stretched and yawned, reveling in the feeling of almost total relaxation and peace. It had been nice, these last couple of days. He could get used to this, he thought drowsily.

“Mmph, close the curtain,” came Lucy's voice a minute later, from right beside him. She lifted up one corner of her eye mask, and groaned louder. “Too bright. Too early.”

He chuckled. Lucy was not a morning person; he'd learned that long before they moved here. “Too bright, huh? This coming from the woman who voluntarily sleeps next to me at night, in the Wild Lands.”

She shoved his shoulder. “That's different. I've got this mask, and you're--” She yawned, and then continued, “You're not as bright as the sun, just so you know.”

“Good thing, too,” he said, still smiling. “But you know, sunlight is supposed to be good for me.” He'd started reading up on Brightstars as soon as they arrived at the little house they were living in now – and Lucy had read most of the same stuff he found, though she had her own topics of research as well. The sunlight thing was just one of the interesting facts he had learned.

She took off the mask, squinted, and then sighed. “Fine. But I'm rolling over now.” She suited actions to words, and put the pillow over her head. Then she spoke again, her voice muffled. “Sleep is supposed to be good for me, you know. And for the baby.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Always playing so dirty,” he mock-grumbled, as he got out of bed to pull the curtain all the way across the window. It was still pretty early, he admitted to himself.

She put her head back on top of the pillow and faced him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, beaming at him. Then she yawned again and shut her eyes. “I'll sit in the sun with you later. I promise.”

“I'm going to hold you to that, babydoll.” He lay back down. It wasn't like he minded resting for a while longer – as long as Lucy was next to him.

The rest of their day continued at that leisurely pace. Lucy was finally ready to get up three hours later, while Wyatt had gotten out of bed an hour earlier than that. They had nothing on the schedule for today except the possibility of visiting another of the tourist sites neither of them had ever seen (which had been all of them, before they arrived in the Wild Lands last week). There was no real pressure to go at any particular time, though, since this spot didn't close until dusk. Of course, it wasn't a good idea for Wyatt to be out in public at dusk, anyway, even with the concealment spell that Lucy put on him whenever they went out anywhere. Which was something Wyatt was still getting used to.

The two of them continued their research - into Brightstars, the House of Rittyn, and trading off with a few books on pregnancy - until lunch. Then after a little while, Wyatt went over to the front windows and looked out. The weather was perfect. “I think I'm going to do some flying,” he said. Their house was pretty isolated, and surrounded by forest. He'd already flown a few times since they got here, and it had been just as fantastic as he'd imagined from his first brief moments in the air.

“Okay,” said Lucy. She looked wistful. “One of these days I'm going to have to come up with some magic that lets me go with you, in a way that doesn't mean you're just dragging me along.”

“Let me know when you do,” he said immediately, holding her gaze for a few seconds. That was his least favorite thing about flying: that he couldn't really share the experience with Lucy. Carrying her for a short distance just wasn't the same. For her, anyway; he still found that he enjoyed it.

To his pleasure and faint embarrassment, Lucy followed him out onto the porch with the clear intent of watching him fly. He didn't make her wait. With a grin, he launched into the air, climbing quickly. He couldn't deny that her delight in watching him motivated him to show off – just a little.

“Wyatt!” she called out, as he folded his wings and started a dive back down toward the roof. It was almost hard to hear her over the air rushing past him. “Wyatt, be careful!”

He didn't change course. Instead, he waited until just about the last moment to open his wings – resulting in a sudden soaring upward as if he had opened a parachute. The rush was better than anything else he could think of.

“Oh, my God, Wyatt,” came Lucy's voice, from the porch. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide. “You're going to give me a heart attack!”

“I'll be fine,” he called back. “Trust me.” It was strange to see her so small below him. She always loomed so large in his view, no matter that he knew she wasn't actually all that tall.

That evening, after a fun excursion to the wildlife park, some tentative leads on a good doctor for Lucy while they were living here, and dinner back at their house, Wyatt was out on the porch again with Lucy. The sky was clear, and the temperature was nice. It wasn't quite dark enough yet for him to start glowing, but Wyatt knew it was almost there.

Lucy let out a contented sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. “Today was a good day.”

“It was,” agreed Wyatt easily. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Then he was quiet for a while. “Which of the doctors we looked into did you like the best?”

“Maybe the third one?” she said, glancing up at him. “She seemed trustworthy, right?”

“She did, as far as I could tell.” As if to punctuate this statement, his skin started to give off light right then.

Lucy smiled and ran a hand over his face. “Not bored of watching that happen yet,” she said softly.

He leaned in, kissing her once and then continuing very willingly when she didn't want to stop. “Not bored of doing that yet,” he said between breaths, after they finally stopped for air.

“Good. Neither am I.”

They kept going with that particular activity for a while, and then by common consent slowed it back down. There was no rush. Plus, it felt a little exhibitionist to take things much further while they were outside, even though this was their house, in the middle of nowhere.

Some time later, Lucy spoke up. “Should we feel guilty that we're out here, enjoying ourselves and basically having an extended vacation, while Rufus, Jiya, Flynn, and Agent Christopher are still on the front lines fighting Rittenhouse?”

He sighed and stroked a hand down her arm. “I know what you mean. I can't say I haven't been thinking something like that – every day.” He smiled ruefully, and she nodded. “I have to keep telling myself that this isn't just a vacation. It's our best hope at the moment of staying under the radar. Keeping us – all of us – safe, and away from Rittenhouse. And by the way, that in itself is probably throwing a wrench in their plans.”

She blinked. “Okay. Good point.”

“Who knows,” he went on, after a brief pause. “Maybe when we next contact Rufus or Agent Christopher, they'll tell us they've caught Emma. Or more likely, that she's giving us all a break for whatever reason.”

“And that reason is because she's been called in to deal with the fact that their perfect Rittyn House princess is missing?” She said it wryly, but she obviously got what he was saying. “Yeah, maybe.”

~  
A month later, things still were going well overall. They had settled on Dr. Zella as Lucy's doctor. Further encounters and then actual meetings with her had helped convince both Wyatt and Lucy that she was trustworthy, as well as being an excellent doctor. (Trustworthy or not, though, the two of them had decided to maintain aliases while they were here, just in case.) When they had had their first real appointment, the doctor had been shocked to learn of Wyatt's heritage, but had promised she would keep the information to herself.

“I'll need to brush up on my Brightstar biology,” Dr. Zella had said, her eyes wide, “which, unfortunately, is not very comprehensive. There just isn't much known about your people, Lord Star. Well, aside from the legends, I mean.”

Wyatt blushed again. “Please, just call me Eli. And whatever you can find out will be helpful, I'm sure.”

Thankfully for Lucy's sake, there had been no need to delve into her past other than to let the doctor know that she was full-blooded elven. That was normal, such that it didn't catch Dr. Zella's interest at all. And according to the tests the doctor had run, the baby was doing fine so far. The estimate was that 'Lily' was eight weeks along, which fit with the timeline Dr. Williams had given back in the human world.

Lucy, meanwhile, was definitely noticing some effects. She was tired a lot, though she rarely encountered any morning sickness. Still, there were some foods and other strong odors she couldn't stand to smell, at any hour of day. She was also pretty emotional at times – which wasn't exactly a surprise. Even Wyatt knew enough about hormones to have expected that. But there were a few things neither of them had expected.

The first one happened – or they noticed it for the first time, anyway – the morning after their actual first appointment with the doctor. Lucy was showering, while Wyatt shaved at the sink. When she stepped out from behind the shower curtain and reached for her towel, she had glanced vaguely in his direction and then gasped. “What-- what the hell is that?”

“What?” Wyatt turned around. “Did I miss a spot?”

But she wasn't joking – and she wasn't looking at him, either. She was looking at her back, in the bathroom mirror. “You see that, right?”

He saw where she was pointing on her back, and nearly dropped the razor. “Whoa. What the hell?”

“You do see it.”

He couldn't fail to see it, now that he was looking: there was a pattern on her skin, looking as if it had been drawn with gray and black colored pencils or something. It started on her shoulder blades, in the same place where his wings grew from his own back. And it was, probably not coincidentally, like an extensive and very realistic tattoo of folded wings.

“Wow,” he breathed. He took a step closer, and reached out a hand to touch the design. She shivered under his touch, but his fingers didn't detect anything different from how her skin usually felt. “Do you-- do you feel anything different about the skin there? Because I don't.”

She reached as best she could to touch the area herself. “No. It feels normal. But where did it come from?”

He shook his head. “I don't know, but it seems pretty obvious that the design isn't a coincidence.”

“I'd have to agree,” she said. She wrapped the towel around herself after a final glance at herself in the mirror. “I … I think I like it.”

“Yeah?” Caressing the part of the pattern that was still visible, Wyatt said, “Me, too.”

Lucy smiled at him, and returned the favor by running her hands over his own folded wings. The sensation, as always, sent a pleasant shiver through him. She kissed his shoulder, and then went out into the bedroom to get dressed.

It was later, after breakfast, that Lucy let out a small cry of discovery. “Ha! Okay, maybe it's something like that!”

“What?” Wyatt looked up from the book of general Wild Lands history he was reading (yet more evidence of how Lucy was rubbing off on him).

“This book I'm reading,” she said, holding up her latest week-by-week 'what to expect' book. “It says a pregnant woman can develop unusual pigmentation on her body. Sometimes it's darker patches of skin, or sometimes it's a spiderweb-like pattern. It often fades after the baby is born, but not always. So maybe – maybe the wings are our own special version of that. A version that happened because I'm an elf and you're a Brightstar.”

He blinked. “Huh.” Then he bit his lip. “So … it is kind of my fault?” That had ramifications that didn't exactly make him happy. Sure, no one else was likely to see, but he didn't like how it felt for him to have put some kind of mark on her, even unintentionally.

“Did I say I minded?” Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides, it's both of our faults, if I understand correctly how this whole pregnancy thing works.”

“Ha ha,” Wyatt said, but he was smiling. If she really wasn't worried about it, he'd try to let it go.

She stood up, crossed over to the chair where he was sitting, and kissed the top of his head. “Don't worry,” she said then, with another grin. “You can get a tattoo for me later, to even things out.”

He let out a surprised laugh, and then pretended to consider the idea. “Hmm. How about one of those big, really classy ones that'll cover my whole shoulder, with your face, and a couple of roses, and some deeply meaningful saying in Latin?”

“Ugh,” she said, grimacing. “I'm warning you right now, if you do that, I will find some kind of way to remove it with magic.”

The second very unexpected pregnancy side effect started happening a few nights after the wing design appeared on Lucy. Wyatt was asleep, dreaming of flying (as he often did). He was soaring above a landscape that looked a lot like the plains of his childhood in Texas. Flight conditions were perfect. Then, all of a sudden, he saw a shape coming toward him in the air. He stopped, hovering in a way that would usually have quickly exhausted him. There was no impression of a threat in whatever this was that was coming. That much, he could tell.

As it got closer, Wyatt saw to his surprise and pleasure that it was Lucy. She was flying! Her wings were – they were like a three-dimensional version of the pattern on her back. They were beautiful. “Lucy,” he said, moving through the air to meet her. “How did you get here?”

“I don't know,” said Lucy, looking puzzled but happy. She glanced around. “This place is really pretty, though, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” He grinned then, as excitement welled up in him. “Hey. You're here. That means we can finally fly together!”

Her expression was delighted. “Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!”

And she was off, before he could respond. He sped after her. It was so easy to fly here, easier even than he was used to. Beyond that, though, flying with Lucy was more amazing than he'd ever imagined. They raced each other, soared and dove together, and explored the skies above the beautiful, peaceful land they were in.

It was only when the two of them came to rest on the branches of a large, sturdy tree that had appeared just after Lucy voiced the desire to land that either of them realized the key fact about where they were. “Wyatt,” Lucy said, her brow furrowing a little as she looked around, “is there something … weird about this place, or is it just me?”

Wyatt followed her gaze. “I don't know,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, it kind of looks like some of the areas around where I grew up, but it's not quite the same, either.” Then his eyes widened. “It, uh, looks more like how home looks when I dream about it, actually.”

“Oh.” Lucy's jaw dropped. “Wyatt, are we both in your dream?”

Before they could attempt to confirm or disprove that idea, Wyatt woke up. A second later, Lucy rolled over to face him. “Wyatt,” she whispered, frowning just a little, “I just had the weirdest dream. You were there, and-- and we flew together...”

“Yeah,” he said, “and then we landed in a big tree, and that was when I realized I was dreaming.” He tried to grasp the implications of this. “Lucy, I think you were in my dream. Is that even possible?”

“I guess it must be. Another side effect, maybe?” She was quiet for a moment.

“Maybe.” If he had to guess, he would have said this particular side effect came from her fae heritage, not his.

“Well. That's definitely another new one.” She smiled then. “Anyway, it was a really good dream. Thanks for letting me share it.”

He leaned close to her and kissed her cheek. “Anytime.” Whatever had allowed that to happen – her magic, or something else – he wasn't going to complain.

~  
Two days later, Wyatt was out in the driveway, taking a look under the hood of the beat-up old pickup truck that they'd been able to buy shortly after crossing the Boundary. It had been pretty dependable at first, but the transmission had been acting up the last couple of times they had taken it out. He was hoping a quick examination would let him discover whether it was something simple, like the transmission fluid, or if it was going to require more complex repairs.

Just as he was checking the level of the fluid, Wyatt heard Lucy calling his name from inside the house. She had been napping, but now she sounded downright alarmed.

Wyatt hurried toward the front door, wiping his hands on a rag as he did so. “Lucy? What's going on?” he called, feeling his heart rate quicken.

“The wards,” she called, as she opened the door. “Wyatt, someone activated one of them. Someone's coming this way.”

He clenched his jaw. “Just one person?” She had explained the charms she had laid at the four corners of this property to him, but he wasn't sure whether that magic was precise enough to tell the number of people passing the borders.

“I-- I think so.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a breath. He wanted to draw his sword, but he also knew that could end up being a dangerous overreaction. Instead, he picked up the toolbox he had brought outside with him. “You should stay inside.”

“No,” she said, coming out onto the porch and closing the door. Her hair was mussed, but her expression was resolute. “I'm not just going to let you face who knows what by yourself. I can fight them, too, you know.”

Wyatt frowned. “I know, but--” He gestured in the direction of her belly, which still barely showed any evidence of the tiny life growing inside it. “It's not just the two of us we have to consider here!”

She glared at him and crossed her arms. “And I know that! But you--”

The sound of a twig snapping, in the forest on the eastern side of the house, interrupted their argument. Wyatt hurried to open the toolbox, taking out a wrench and then moving to stand in front of Lucy on the porch steps. “Who's there?” he said loudly.

No one answered, exactly, but Wyatt thought he could hear a voice speaking in kind of an undertone. A male voice, totally unfamiliar. “Hey!” Wyatt called again, even louder. “Whoever you are, you're trespassing. Are you lost or something?”

The muttering didn't stop. A few seconds later, a strange figure came into view. It was a man, with untidy white hair and dark, piercing eyes. He was clearly very old, though he didn't look frail. The most noticeable thing about him, though, was the way he was talking to himself while he kept coming closer. He stared at both Wyatt and Lucy, but he sure didn't seem to be addressing them when he said, “Two fae here, but the female isn't very likely. Her features are distinctly elven. That leaves the male as the likely candidate.”

“Candidate for what?” came Lucy's sharp demand from behind Wyatt.

The old man was coming nearer, now focusing his attention almost entirely on Wyatt. “Yes, it seems very possible, based on his appearance,” he said.

Wyatt frowned. This guy didn't look like a threat, but there was definitely something off about him. He adjusted his grip on the wrench in his left hand, as his right arm grew warm. “Sir,” he said, “I really have to ask you what the hell it is you want.”

The man didn't reply. Instead, he took a step closer, now invading Wyatt's personal space. Wyatt stepped back and raised the wrench. “Okay, that's enough. Stop right there.”

As the man blinked, apparently just now noticing the weapon, Wyatt felt the now familiar sensation of Lucy's concealment spell settling over him like a light blanket. He exchanged glances with her. She hadn't come down to join him on the steps, at least, but he was sure that could change at any minute if she felt like she needed to intervene in any other way.

“Ah,” said the old man, shaking his head and then also turning to look at Lucy. Other than the fact that his voice hadn't gotten any louder, Wyatt thought you could almost mistake him for actually talking to her now. “A mage. Interesting.”

“Yes, I am a mage,” Lucy stated. Her arms were still crossed. “If you noticed the magic I did just then, I'm not sure why you didn't care about the wards I put up around our house.”

The old man now seemed confused. He looked between the two of them again, and then took a step back from Wyatt. “But the Brightstar...” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and making it even more untidy than before. “There was one here. I know there was.”

Wyatt made himself not react. He lowered the wrench. Despite the alarm that came with hearing the name of his species from the intruder, the guy just seemed sad now – although it definitely concerned him that the guy seemed to have tracked him here somehow. “Look,” he said, “how about you just turn around and leave? You don't bother us, we won't bother you.”

But the stranger didn't respond this time. Instead, he stayed where he was, staring at the ground, and rubbing at his arm. “There are more,” he said, his voice low. “There have to be. I need-- I need to find them.”

Wyatt looked at Lucy again, raising his eyebrows. What the hell were they supposed to do with him now?

She shrugged a little. Before either of them could make a decision though, she stiffened and looked up. “Someone else is coming,” she announced.

“Great,” Wyatt muttered. Just what they needed. “Who's it going to be this time?”

Lucy came to stand next to him. “It felt the same as when this guy crossed the ward, so at least we can be pretty sure it's not a lot of people.”

“Hello?” called a voice in the distance not too long after this, coming from the same direction the old guy had appeared. It sounded like a woman this time. “I'm sorry to trespass, but I'm looking for my husband. He came this way, if I'm not mistaken.”

The man's head rose at the sound of this voice, and he sighed heavily. “Serah,” he said. He still didn't seem to want to move.

“Uh, yes, I'm guessing this must be him,” Wyatt called back. There was no point in denying it – and maybe this woman could finally get the guy to leave. “Come on through.”

Less than a minute later, a white-haired woman emerged from the cover of the trees, worry on her face. This cleared as soon as she saw the man. “Annas,” she said, reproachful but not too sharp, “there you are. Why are you bothering these people and trespassing on their property?”

Annas didn't meet her eyes. “The detection spell,” he said, after a pause. “I followed it here.”

“The detection-- ah.” Serah looked over at Lucy and Wyatt then. “Excuse me,” she said, and approached them. “Apologies for my rudeness, and that of my husband. I'm Serah, and my husband there is Annas.”

“Eli,” said Wyatt, glad they already had aliases they had agreed on, “and this is Lily.”

“So, Serah,” 'Lily' put in then, “would you mind telling us what your husband thinks he's looking for here? He seemed very sure he'd found one, until a few minutes ago.”

Serah sighed, and then went over to put a hand on Annas's shoulder. “No, of course you two have a right to know, now that he's disturbed your day this way,” she said. “He believes he's found a way to track down Brightstars.”

Wyatt kept his face impassive. “Aren't they extinct?”

“According to the common view, yes,” said Serah. Then she gave a sad smile. “But if you'll keep it between us, I can inform you that in reality, the species is alive and well.”

“Why are you telling them?” Annas hissed, glaring at his wife. “They don't need to know that. Although I still think... The elf woman put a spell on the male before you got here. It could be him...” He trailed off, staring at Wyatt again.

Serah patted his arm. “Perhaps, dear,” she said. She didn't sound very convinced. But she did give Lucy a more speculative look. “Are you a mage, Lily? The one who put up the wards?”

“Yes,” said Lucy simply.

“Hmm,” she said. She squinted at Lucy, and then her eyes widened. “My goodness. You're quite the powerful one, aren't you? But your husband isn't a mage, is he?”

Wyatt wondered if Lucy felt as uncomfortable under this woman's gaze as he did. There was something almost coldly measuring about it – like she found other fae fascinating from a scientific point of view, not as fellow creatures. “No, I'm not.”

“But you two must be, if you can tell that about us,” said Lucy. Her tone wasn't friendly.

“Well, it would be more accurate to say that we were mages,” was Serah's baffling response. “Nowadays, we barely have enough magic between the two of us to light a candle. That detection spell my husband is referring to was already in existence, or it would be even less functional than it is now.”

Annas narrowed his eyes, his expression becoming thunderous. “All _her_ fault,” he snarled. His hands clenched into fists.

“Now, now,” said Serah quickly, running a soothing hand along his arm. “Hush, my love. That's all in the past now, regardless of whether the judgment was fair or not. You know that.”

The old man sighed, but relaxed and bowed his head. “Yes. It's in the past,” he mumbled. “But we can still find others. _She_ doesn't have to know.”

“Maybe someday, if that old spell of ours keeps working,” Serah said. Then her gaze traveled over Wyatt again and back to Lucy. Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, my. Perhaps you've done it already! I shouldn't have doubted...”

“What?” said Lucy, crossing her arms again. Wyatt moved closer to her, resisting the urge to stand in front of her. He didn't like the way both of the others (former mages? Was that a thing?) were looking at her now.

“Lily, my dear,” said Serah with a broad smile, “you may have concealed your husband's true nature, but the child you're carrying is clearly of Brightstar stock. I think I would even be correct in saying that you have the mark of wings on your back at this very moment, don't you?”

Annas's jaw dropped, and he stared at both of them with undisguised yearning.

Wyatt didn't have to look at Lucy to feel her fear. His own heart pounding, he put his arm around her. Even though the two ex-mages seemed to know the truth already (and how the hell could they have a spell that still worked, if they didn't have magic anymore?), he fought against the instinctive urge to spread his wings over her, and to draw his sword. “You need to leave right now,” he said, through clenched teeth.

“Will you chase us away with your blade if we don't, young sir?” said Serah, with an indulgent smile. “We're no threat to you, or your child. Quite the opposite.”

Lucy was breathing quickly, and her terror hadn't lessened in the slightest. Neither had Wyatt's fear and suspicion. “Why should we believe you?” he demanded. “If you know so damn much about Brightstars, shouldn't you know why what you're doing right now is the opposite of reassuring?”

At that, Serah's smile faded. She nodded seriously. “Yes, I suppose we can see it from your point of view, Eli. And yours, too, Lily. Our apologies. We-- we shouldn't have gotten so carried away.”

Lucy had seized Wyatt's hand, and now she leaned to whisper, “Do they feel like … members of my family to you? Because they kind of sound like it, to me.”

Members of her family. Rittenhouse. Wyatt swallowed. He hadn't even thought... But Annas was speaking now, addressing Wyatt directly for the first time.

“I'm sorry for what must have seemed like a threat to you and your family, son,” he was saying. “It wasn't my intention to alarm you. Please, use that Brightstar intuition of yours. You'll see I'm not-- we're not lying to you. We only want to help.”

Wyatt swallowed again. His 'Brightstar intuition' did seem to be confirming the man's words: neither he nor Serah were direct threats. But that didn't mean they felt safe to have around. “I don't think they're lying,” he said to Lucy, in a low voice but not bothering to keep it quiet enough for the two ex-mages not to hear. “That's all I can tell you for sure.”

“Yeah, well,” she whispered back, “a lot of … family members of mine probably really believe what they say, too. Doesn't mean they're not wrong.”

Annas looked offended now. He opened his mouth to speak further, but Serah stepped in first. “All right,” she said, holding out her hands. “Perhaps we can find a way to ease your understandable suspicions. We are the foremost living experts in Brightstars, having spent nearly our whole lives with them. The welfare of each and every specimen is our greatest concern. That includes you, Eli, and your child and its mother. We would be deeply honored to advise you and help you in any way we can.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. Experts. Experts in his species, like no one else who was alive today. He still really disliked the way Serah talked about Brightstars – like a scientist would talk about the last few members of a rare and fascinating endangered species – but he couldn't deny he had some questions he'd like to get answers for, at least.

Lucy, however, wasn't buying any of this. “I don't care about your expertise,” she snapped, tightening her grip on Wyatt's hand. “You barge in here and admit that you're searching for Brightstars, just to _help_ them, out of the goodness of your hearts?” She scoffed. “I will kill you both before I allow you to use my family.”

Annas flinched at the coldness of her voice – and maybe it wasn't just her voice, Wyatt realized. The air around them seemed to have dropped a significant number of degrees. Serah, too, had gone pale.

Into the silence that fell after Lucy's pronouncement, Annas coughed and then looked at his wife. “Who is she?” he asked, almost in a whine. “She's very strong, Serah.”

“I noticed,” was her reply. The woman licked her lips, and then turned back to Lucy and Wyatt. “We-- we can only pledge that we would never misuse a Brightstar for our own gain, Lady Lily. That is the kind of vile deed that we've dedicated our lives to try to prevent.”

'Lady'? Wyatt again tried not to react outwardly. These two couldn't know how exactly wrong that tack was to take with Lucy. Reminding her of her noble heritage wasn't going to help her trust them at all. “How about this?” he said, catching Lucy's eyes before he went on. “Lily and I don't want you here.” Before either of the visitors could do more than start to look deeply disappointed, he went on, “However, I know there's plenty we could learn from you, if you really are the experts you say you are.”

Lucy frowned and shook her head. “W-- Eli, no!”

“Lily,” he said, “aren't there a lot of things, a lot of question we both have thought of, that we'd really like to know? When else are we going to get an opportunity like this?”

“We can figure it out ourselves,” she shot back, though he could see her wavering just the tiniest bit.

Serah cleared her throat. “Would it help if we were to arrange to meet somewhere else – somewhere that wouldn't be an invasion of your privacy?”

Wyatt thought for a moment. “That's a decent idea,” he told the woman, “except Lily and I haven't been in the Wild Lands long enough to know a lot of good places where we could have a meeting and feel like it would be private and safe.”

“Ah.” Serah didn't seem to have a quick answer to that. For his part, Annas stayed quiet, which Wyatt thought was a good thing although he was really tired of the almost desperate longing on the guy's face. It was downright creepy.

“Eli, come here a minute,” said Lucy. She walked a few steps away. When he had followed, she asked, “You really want to do this?”

He nodded. “If we can agree on a good place to meet that isn't here,” he told her, “and if you can make sure they don't find our house again afterward, then yeah, I do.” He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Look, I agree with you that these two can't be as on the level as they're saying they are. They're hiding something. But they don't want to hurt us. And if they can help us be sure our kid is as healthy as possible – and that you are, too – isn't that worth it?”

“Just as long as you stay just as healthy,” she said. Her tone was low but fierce. “They don't get to-- to keep you, or whatever it is they actually want to do with you.”

He smiled a little at her intensity. “Noted.”

Just then, Serah cleared her throat again and spoke up. “Uh, Eli and Lily? I have a suggestion for a place that might be suitable.”

The place Serah had in mind was a restaurant that Wyatt and Lucy had heard of and had been to once before. It was a nice place, fairly popular but not likely to be so crowded that a private conversation would be difficult. Serah had mentioned almost as an afterthought that “Lady Lily” should have no trouble making certain that no one would overhear anything she didn't want overheard. Wyatt had glanced at Lucy and thought she did a good job of not showing any surprise at that; it was a logical enough use of her magic. They settled on lunch the following day, since dinner was today's only remaining meal and he and Lucy had already decided they wanted to avoid any risks of him starting to glow out in public.

“In the meantime,” Lucy said, fixing the two ex-mages with a glare, “you leave us alone. You don't hang around our house, or on our property, and you don't wait around to accompany us to the restaurant, or anything like that. In fact, I'm going to do my best to make sure you stay away from here. We'll meet you there.”

“Understood,” said Serah with a nod. “Annas, let's go. Let's leave these two alone until tomorrow.”

Her husband didn't respond at first, but when Serah tugged on his arm gently, he frowned and followed her out of the yard. Wyatt and Lucy watched them go until they were out of sight. Then Lucy turned away. “I'm going to go inside and do more research on magic.”

“Good idea,” said Wyatt. This interruption didn't change the fact that he had things he was supposed to be doing. “I'll finish up with the car, and then join you.”

The two of them were quiet as they prepared dinner that evening. It was only when they had started to eat (Wyatt found his appetite was a little decreased) that Lucy spoke. “How does a mage even lose his or her magic, anyway?”

“No idea,” he said. “Annas made it sound like someone had done it to them – which is quite frankly disturbing.”

“You're telling me.” Lucy shook her head, and took a sip of water. “I guess we could ask them about it tomorrow, but then again I'm not sure how much I want to know.”

Wyatt gave a wry smile. “I can understand that.” He ate a bite of his pasta. “Maybe we can ask Rufus if he's ever read about anything like that, in our next letter.”

She brightened. “Yeah, that sounds better to me. When are we scheduled to send our next one, again? Friday?”

“That's right.”

After another period of silence, Wyatt decided to bring up one of the issues that was weighing on him from their encounter with the ex-mages. “So,” he said, “I'm assuming you noticed the part back there where Serah said they'd spent most of their lives with Brightstars. Which, uh, seems to suggest that they-- we aren't extinct, after all.”

“Yeah, I did notice that,” she said. She searched for words for a few seconds, then said, “What do you think that means for you?”

Wyatt took a slow breath and let it out. “Well,” he said, looking down at his plate, “for starters, it means I might have a lot of relatives I never knew about, living somewhere in the Wild Lands. My mom's relatives, and my grandpa's.” To his surprise, tears sprang to his eyes as he said those words, and he had to clear his throat suddenly.

“That's true,” Lucy said softly. “I wonder if it would be possible for you to meet them.”

He cleared his throat again. “Yeah.” Oddly enough, he'd never known any of his mother's family growing up, other than his grandfather. Neither of them had ever talked about any other relatives, either.

“Let's add that to the list of things we might want to ask Serah and Annas,” she said, when he didn't say anything else.

He didn't disagree. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to share something so personal with the two ex-mages. Even if they were experts on some of the parts of himself that he still knew so little about.

~~


	11. Chapter 11

~~  
Lucy woke up far too early the next morning. Until then, she'd slept better than she'd feared, but now she was uncomfortable no matter what position she tried to sleep in. That was even aside from the repeated trips to the bathroom.

Wyatt had woken up a couple of times when she got up, but seemed to be doing better at staying asleep than her. That was fine. She was only kind of jealous.

She sighed and tried once again to get comfortable on her back. Okay, she was more than kind of jealous. It was unfair that he should have the chance to sleep peacefully instead of worrying about today's lunch meeting all morning. She was the one doing all the work of growing a new person. Sighing again, she shut her eyes, willing herself to relax.

A few seconds later, she was – somewhere very different from her bed. It was hot, and dusty, and oh yeah, there were also bombs falling far too close to her for comfort. She screamed and ducked for cover behind a boulder as another explosion rocked the area. Dirt showered around her, and through the ringing in her ears she heard other screams nearby.

And then she saw a squad of soldiers run past, all heavily armed and wearing all kinds of protective gear. Not that it would do much to save them if a bomb went off right next to them, she thought grimly. One of the men in the squad looked familiar. It was...

It was Wyatt! Lucy went cold and stood up, almost shouting his name. Then she stopped herself. This was a dream. This was his dream, most likely. She was in his dreams again, but this time they weren't the nice kind. She watched Wyatt hurrying away, and shook her head. She didn't want to be here. Maybe she could wake both herself and Wyatt up, if she tried.

At first, when she told herself to wake up, though, nothing happened. She was still stuck here, in Syria or maybe Afghanistan (she assumed), and another explosion had just gone off in the direction Wyatt had gone. There was a vehicle coming toward where she was crouched, and she had no idea if it was driven by American troops or not. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated on getting out of here.

With a little half-muffled cry, she woke up – to meet Wyatt's open eyes. “You were there,” he said. It wasn't a question. He was breathing heavily, she saw.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I, um, sorry I woke you.”

He scoffed. “You don't have to apologize. I should apologize for dragging you into … that.”

“Not your fault, either,” she said, shrugging. “Why would I blame you for still having those memories? They're part of who you are. It's just-- me, my magic, that I need to try to control, that put me back there with you.”

He reached out and laid a hand on her face. “Then, yeah, I think it'd be worth the effort to see if you can control that,” he told her. “I don't want to put you in a war zone – even one that isn't real.”

“I won't argue with that.” She yawned and then huffed a breath. “Just plain sleeping would be nice, though.”

“You having trouble sleeping again?” When she confirmed this, Wyatt looked sympathetic. “Sorry. Let me get you those extra pillows we found in the back of the wardrobe.”

“You don't have to--” she started to say, but he was already getting up. A few seconds later, he brought back the three pillows of a variety of shapes, and helped her arrange them. Somehow, that was just what she needed. She barely had time to thank Wyatt before she was starting to drift off.

~  
The time before lunch the next day went both too quickly and too slowly. Lucy had practiced the magic that would let them all speak in private at the restaurant until she had it down. Which was good. She was less sure what she would do if, despite all their precautions and the two ex-mages' promises, something happened after this meeting. Like, if Serah and Annas had arranged some kind of trap for after the Brightstar and his pregnant 'wife' left the restaurant. But she couldn't let herself panic about that kind of thing, she told herself. That was heading straight for paranoia. Probably. Besides, even if she didn't have a detailed plan for that scenario, she did know she wasn't going to let it just happen. She could and would stop the older couple with her magic, if she had to. She had meant it when she told them yesterday that she would kill them before she let them take her family.

For his part, Wyatt used the time before lunch to check off a few more things on their to-do list for the house. Somehow Lucy wasn't surprised to learn that he was a pretty good handyman. He fixed the lock on their back door, fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen, and found something to prop up the bookshelf in the living room that had been crooked. Lucy could easily recognize the value of keeping busy instead of focusing on what was to come. She also didn't deny, even when Wyatt noticed and asked about it with a smirk, that she enjoyed watching him work.

Finally, it was time to leave for lunch. The drive was not a short one, given that they had chosen this house specifically to be some distance outside of the nearest town. But it was a beautiful day. Plus, Lucy didn't notice any signs of anyone having trespassed or tampered with her wards as they left. She hoped the spell she had put on the whole property – to try to keep the two mages from remembering quite where it was – had worked, as well.

Serah and Annas were just walking up to the front of the restaurant when Lucy and Wyatt arrived. Lucy saw Serah gesture to their truck, and Annas perked up. The two waited for them to get out.

“Hello, Eli. Hello, Lily,” said Serah with a smile, as they approached. “I hope you slept well.”

Annas was staring at them again, openly, just like he had for most of their interaction yesterday. Lucy looked away. She wondered, not for the first time, what had caused him to be the way he was. What had left him so impaired. It was just a guess, but she didn't think Serah had been looking after him their whole life together the way she obviously had to now. “Hi,” she said, in answer to Serah. “Let's go in.”

“I have a table in mind, if that's all right,” said Serah. “It'll be the easiest part of the restaurant to not attract any attention.”

“Lead the way,” said Wyatt. He was positioning himself between Lucy and Annas this whole time, she noted. She doubted it was even conscious on his part.

Once they were all seated at a nice, comfortable table that Lucy had to admit was strategically chosen, she informed their lunch companions that she was going to set up the privacy spell. Both the former mages nodded, and remained silent while she did so. If she had been asked to describe it, Lucy would have said that she had created something like an invisible cloud around the four of them, that no one in the restaurant would notice (ideally), but that would be like a sound barrier. The other customers would be able to hear just enough for it to be background noise – nothing else.

“Good,” said Serah, when that was done. “Shall we get started, or would you like to order first?”

Lucy couldn't help being reminded of the lunch she'd had with her mother. The last time she'd seen her mother. It wasn't a comforting comparison. She took a breath, and glanced at Wyatt. “Let's order.”

Later, Lucy couldn't have told anyone what it was that she told the waitress. The food had probably been fine, for as much of it as she had eaten. But she had been far more focused on the two ex-mages as they shared their expertise – and on the effect their shared wisdom had on Wyatt as well as herself.

To her irritation, Serah had started instead of letting either Wyatt or her ask the first question. As soon as the waitress had delivered their food and left, the old woman leaned forward and pinned Wyatt with her gaze. “So, Eli,” she said, “tell us about your family history. It's very likely that we knew your grandparents, if not your parents.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Really? How can you be so sure?”

“Because we had them all,” Annas interjected. He picked out a carrot from his salad and popped it in his mouth before going on, “They were all with us, for a while – all of the remaining Brightstars in the Wild Lands.” Then he sighed and stared down at his plate. “If only none of them had ever left. Then this-- this wouldn't have happened.”

“What wouldn't have happened?” Lucy asked. She hadn't failed to notice Annas's word choice there: that the two of them used to “have” all of the Brightstars. Put that together with the way the man always gazed at Wyatt and at her, and it made her shudder.

Right now, however, he just looked at her like she was an idiot. “The separation,” he said. “Being cast out of the Eden we created – thanks to that she-devil.”

“Annas,” said Serah, putting her hand over his. “I thought we'd agreed to stop blaming others. The truth was, the Brightstars decided they didn't need us anymore … and that's a good thing.” She smiled, but it was a sad smile.

Annas frowned, but didn't contradict her. Wyatt, meanwhile, gave Lucy a look and then said, “So let me get this straight: you two created or founded some kind of place for Brightstars to live, and you had all of them there with you?”

“We did, for a short while,” Serah said with a nod. “That was during the time that hunting and exploitation of Brightstars was at its peak, so when we say all of your kind, that wasn't that high of a number. But at any rate, some of the pairs decided they would rather cross the Boundary, hide themselves, and live as humans, while still fulfilling as much of their inborn drive as they could. Your grandparents must have been among those pairs.”

Lucy thought it was pretty presumptuous for these two to assume no Brightstars had gone across the Boundary without discussing it with them first. Still, it wasn't like they had no reason to believe they might have known Wyatt's family. It was up to Wyatt how much he wanted to tell them.

“My father was human,” Wyatt said, after a pause. “And I never met my mom's mom, but my grandfather helped raise me.”

“Hmm,” said Serah, squinting at him. “The human element explains why you weren't immediately recognizable, then. Still – Annas, do you think he could be--”

Annas had resumed staring at Wyatt as soon as Wyatt started talking about his family. Now he nodded and said, “Yes, descended from Mina and Shandon, I would say.”

“I don't know either of those names,” said Wyatt, scratching the back of his neck. Then he shrugged. “But I guess they would have changed them to try to hide in the human world, wouldn't they?”

“Very likely,” Serah replied.

“Does, uh, does it ever cause any problems when a Brightstar has a child with-- with another race?”

Lucy heard the uncertainty in his voice, and her heart swelled. He wasn't talking about himself; that was obvious. He was worried about her, and about their child. She took his hand under the table.

“Oh, almost never,” said Serah. This time her smile was genuine. “You yourself are evidence of that, Eli. But aside from you, there have been a number of Brightstar-elf and Brightstar-human crosses to our knowledge, and none of them caused any problems for the mother or the child.” She turned her smile toward Lucy. “In fact, you're fortunate, my dear. From all our experience and research, a woman who carries a Brightstar's baby not only rarely has any serious complications, but she also usually has an easy pregnancy and delivery.”

Lucy blinked. That was … nice to hear. She turned to Wyatt, hoping he was encouraged, too.

“But I'm only half-blood,” said Wyatt, clearly not convinced yet. “Are you sure—”

“Half-blood?” Annas snorted. “Not anything that small. Genetic inheritance doesn't work that way for Brightstars, son. You're thinking like a human. Or an elf.”

“Huh?” Wyatt stared. “How does it work for Brightstars, then?”

Lucy, too, was thunderstruck and curious to hear this. She had just assumed...

“It's fairly simple,” Serah explained. “With few exceptions, any child of a Brightstar will be a Brightstar. Yes, he or she will inherit certain traits from either parent – hair color, eye color, height, personality elements, those commonplace physical things – but the vast majority of his or her fae traits will be Brightstar traits. It would take many, many successive generations for those to be diluted to the point that they are no longer expressed.”

Now that, Lucy had not been expecting at all. She felt … she wasn't sure how she felt about that revelation. Not great, though. She didn't have any trouble recognizing how dismissive these two were about her contribution to this child. If she weren't carrying Wyatt's baby, it was clear they wouldn't care two cents for her. She tried to set all that aside for the moment. They were here to learn. “So. Our baby won't be a mage?”

“No,” said Annas.

“He or she will be more sensitive to the use of magic than an average Brightstar, I'd say,” said Serah, “but otherwise, no, the child will have only the sorts of magic common to all of your husband's kind.”

Wyatt bit his lip. He looked upset now. They were going to have to have a conversation about this, Lucy thought. Maybe once they'd both had a chance to really consider what it would mean for them. Meanwhile, she didn't really want to spend anymore time on that particular question. “All right. Um, what else? What else will be different from a human pregnancy?”

That question elicited a lot more information, unsurprisingly. Most of it, Lucy was very glad to know. Some of it was less comforting. The two ex-mages (mostly Serah, as had been usual) started by explaining that the 'mark of wings' Serah had mentioned the previous day was something that all non-Brightstars developed at about two months into a pregnancy with a Brightstar baby. It was innocuous; just as Lucy had guessed, it was pretty much just like any other skin changes that some women developed. She was almost disappointed to learn that it would fade eventually.

As far as how long she and Wyatt would be waiting until their child was born, that was close to what she had expected. She wasn't incredibly happy to hear that almost all fae – not just Brightstars – went all the way up until or slightly past nine months, but she was sure she could handle that. What was going to take some more getting used to was the fact that newborn Brightstars (at least they were born; part of her had been vaguely worried that there might be egg-laying involved) not only had downy feathers on their tiny wings, but also over much of their torso. The extra down lasted until the infant reached about three or four months of age, and then fell out naturally.

“Whoa,” she whispered, after that piece of information. Wyatt, too, looked shocked. Serah didn't seem to notice their discomfort, though. She just went right on to add that until that point was reached, an infant Brightstar was particularly vulnerable to cold. Thus, the parents needed to either always hold their child close to themselves for warmth, or provide it in other ways. Warm clothes by themselves were not necessarily enough.

Other than that, Lucy was relieved to hear that her pregnancy books should be as useful to her as they were to any other expectant mother. She didn't have to eat any special Brightstar food, or do anything out of the ordinary for a pregnant woman, to keep herself and the baby healthy for these nine months. Or seven, now.

Wyatt seemed a little calmer now. He took a bite of his lunch, swallowed, and then asked, “So, how soon can we expect to have to be worried about a little boy or a little girl trying to fly?”

Lucy nearly choked on a bite of her own food. She hadn't even had time to consider that aspect of things. How the hell was she supposed to help protect her child, when he or she was going to have the ability to take off into the air while she was earthbound?

“Thankfully for your peace of mind and sanity as parents,” said Serah with a chuckle, “you'll have a decent number of years before your little one reaches the fledgeling stage. In our experience, no Brightstar child grows in all of his or her flight feathers until at least age five. Often it's not until age six. I'm sure we're all glad for that evolutionary adaptation, since it takes most children long enough already to be able to walk and run without falling!”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, shaking her head once. Five or six. Maybe she'd be ready to handle that stage by the time they reached it. She hoped. And then she thought of another thing they should probably try to be ready for. “Uh, what about the whole sword thing? We're not going to have to deal with a toddler who has access to their own magical weapon, are we?”

At that, Serah outright laughed, especially when Wyatt's eyes got huge. “No need to worry about that, either, my dears,” said the older woman. “Or at least, not for a while. A Brightstar doesn't come into full maturity – and that includes the ability to produce his or her blade, as well as reaching peak luminosity – until puberty.”

“Okay. So we're going to have a _teenager_ swinging around a sword whenever they get angry, instead?” Wyatt didn't look much less horrified.

Annas snorted again. “No Brightstar would act irresponsibly with their blade,” he declared, in another of those odd moments of lucidity they had been witnessing. “Not even a juvenile. Think about it, young man: imagine yourself as a teenager. Would you?”

Wyatt blinked, and then frowned a bit. “Well … I guess not,” he said slowly. Lucy believed him. Before he had discovered his true nature, she could still easily imagine that a young Wyatt would not have been irresponsible in that way. Even if he'd always been reckless in other ways, which she could imagine equally easily.

The meal was just about over, at that point. After a pause, Serah asked if the two of them wanted dessert.

“Um, no thanks,” said Lucy, and Wyatt agreed. She had no desire to spend much more time in the company of these people, despite the helpfulness of the information they had given. She just couldn't shake the feeling that they were not truly doing this out of the goodness of their hearts. They wanted something. What that was, exactly, was the only question. “We really appreciate you sharing your time and your expertise with us. Lunch was nice. But, um, I don't think I have room for dessert.”

“Are you sure?” Serah smiled. “We would love to treat you.”

“They all used to like sweets,” Annas put in suddenly. He wasn't looking at any of them now, just staring off into the distance in Wyatt's general direction. “Especially the children.”

Lucy froze, then shot a glance at Wyatt. He, too, looked more than slightly disturbed by that comment. To her credit, Serah seemed to understand their reaction this time. She gave another smile, rather strained, and sighed. “We won't take up more of your time, then,” she said. “But please, at least let us-- let me pay for lunch.”

Wyatt's jaw was clenched. “No, thank you.” He took out his wallet (really, it was more of a pouch, to fit with the Wild Lands currency of gold coins), and quickly counted out the appropriate number of coins to put on the table. Then he took Lucy's hand and stood up. “We should go.”

Looking back on it, Lucy thought things might have ended on a reasonably okay note right then – if that had been the end of their interactions with the ex-mages that day. But that hadn't been the end, thanks to Annas.

For his part, Annas had clearly been oblivious to the effect of his offhand comment – until Wyatt and Lucy stood to leave. Then he stared at Wyatt in alarm, hurrying to get to his feet as well. “Wait! Don't-- don't go yet,” he cried, loud enough that Lucy wondered how effective her spell was to muffle it. “We have so much more to tell you. And-- and beyond that, we can make you a new place to live, a better one than that unsuitable house you're in right now, so that you and your family will have everything Brightstars could need. You'll all be safe!”

Serah reached out and put her hand on the man's elbow. “No, we can't do all that, dear. Not this time,” she said, in a tone of sorrow. “Remember?”

Lucy's heart was pounding again. Yes, Annas's plea was piteous in its desperation. But any pity she might feel was overwhelmed by the fact that this was proof – proof that these two did want to keep Wyatt and her in some sort of special, delineated place under their jurisdiction. They might even genuinely want to do this in order to protect them, but that didn't make it acceptable in any way.

“Make us a new place to live?” Wyatt was outraged now, though he kept his voice low. “Look, we're grateful for all the advice and information you've given us, but that's enough. You need to leave us the hell alone now. This little get-together, all your expertise about Brightstars, none of it entitles either of you to any ownership – of me, my wife, or our child! No matter how much you think it should.”

Lucy gripped his hand even more tightly. That was it; that was the two ex-mages' attitude in a nutshell. Ownership. It wasn't all that different from how her mother and father regarded her (and Wyatt) as an asset for Rittenhouse. Both varieties of this attitude made her skin crawl.

Meanwhile, their lunch companions were both staring at them in utter shock. Annas gaped wordlessly. Serah, though, cleared her throat. “Is-- is that how you see us, then?” she asked faintly.

“It is,” Lucy replied firmly.

Serah swallowed. She shook her head. Then she cleared her throat again and said, “What if we promise we only want to be kind to you, to treat you well? We're doing this because we value you.”

“You mean you value Eli, and the child I'm carrying because it'll be like him,” corrected Lucy. “If I weren't the mother of a Brightstar, you wouldn't give me a second look. Isn't that right?”

By now, she was sure they would be attracting attention soon, if they weren't already. Serah looked hurt – but she didn't deny Lucy's accusation. Annas had even come right out and nodded.

Wyatt scoffed. He was angrier now – angrier than Lucy had seen him in a long time. “You know, you may be experts in my _kind_ , but you sure as hell don't know me at all,” he stated. “I don't want my son or daughter anywhere near you, if that's the kind of way you'd teach him or her to behave.”

Once again, they had obviously shocked the other two. This time, neither of them seemed able to come up with anything to say in response. So Wyatt gave them one more scornful look, and turned to go. “Wait just a second,” said Lucy, touching his arm. “I want you to hear this, too, before we leave.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows, but stayed where he was.

Lucy took a deep breath. “There isn't much else that needs to be said,” she began, “but I just want you both to be left with no doubt here: if you follow us, or try to find us again, or linger around our house or property, or whatever else...” She trailed off, as she allowed herself to feel the cold rage she had felt yesterday when the two ex-mages had been at their house. It wasn't hard. Just like that last time, she could tell that there was an immense amount of power available to her, and that it would be frighteningly easy to use it to destroy. “You'll regret it,” she finished.

The older couple just looked at her, their eyes wide. Serah, she thought, looked shaken and sad. Annas just looked bewildered and terrified. Lucy turned to Wyatt, and he nodded. “Let's go.”

“Is there nothing we can do to change your minds?”

Serah's question was so quiet that Lucy might have missed it, if she and Wyatt had made it more than a few steps away before the woman asked. She sighed. Did these two ever give up?

“There's nothing you can do,” Wyatt was already replying. He sounded more annoyed than angry now, too. “But let me give you a tip: back off. Leave us alone. Do what we're asking, what we're telling you to do. Then maybe – _maybe_ – sometime in the future, we'll change our own minds. And if we do, we'll be the ones to seek you out, not the other way around.”

They left after that. To her relief, Lucy didn't think anyone in the restaurant gave them more than a brief glance as they exited. She and Wyatt were silent until they had gotten into the truck and started back toward their house.

“Do you think they got the message?” she asked then, as they headed out of town.

“I hope so,” said Wyatt grimly. He let out a breath, and she watched him try to relax his grip on the steering wheel. “I don't want either of us to have to actually attack them – and I really don't want to have to move to get away from them, either.”

“Definitely not,” Lucy agreed. She thought about their house, and imagined having to leave it, to move again after such a short time making it into a home. “I like it there. I like _us_ there.”

He smiled, and she could see some of the tension leave his shoulders. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me, too.”

They kept driving. Lucy thought about bringing up the more surprising and (she admitted) distressing things Serah and Annas had told them, but decided to wait. These things were better discussed when both of them could devote their complete attention to the discussion.

And apparently Wyatt had had a similar idea, because as soon as they were inside their house, he looked right at her. “We have a lot to talk about, from what those two told us today.”

“Yes, we do.” She went over and sat down on the couch. “Coming?”

He followed. “So, first things first,” he said, as he sat down at the other end of the couch. “Lucy, I...” He sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face. “I can't imagine what that must have felt like, to hear that-- that my DNA, or whatever, is going to mean that our kid doesn't have any of your fae traits.”

Lucy swallowed and nodded. “I'm not going to say that wasn't-- startling to hear,” she said, looking down at her hands. “But at least they did say the physical traits, the normal things, could come from either of us.”

“Yeah, but...” He trailed off again. When she looked up at him, she could see the pain clearly on his face. “It feels like I'm, like I'm somehow erasing the part of our child that comes from you. And that's so far from what I want, I can't even tell you.”

She moved closer to him, so she could take his hand. He let her do it, but now it was his turn not to meet her eyes. This wasn't something they were just going to be able to move past without really addressing it, she thought.

“I guess,” she said slowly, as the thought occurred to her, “we just need to try to talk this out. Do a sort of thought experiment. We just have to ask ourselves: what would it be like for us if our baby is totally Brightstar as far as the fae traits go, but a regular mixture of our physical traits aside from that?”

Wyatt frowned. “Isn't that what's going to happen? It's not just a hypothetical scenario.”

“Just go with it,” Lucy said. She took a deep breath. “I'll start. For me, I don't think I'd be disappointed in any real way. I mean, I've barely gotten used to being a mage myself, so it's not like I spent years dreaming that my children would be mages. Plus, I know I don't have to follow in my ancestors' footsteps, but I still--” She swallowed again, with more difficulty. “I still sometimes wish I didn't even have this much in common with them. So in some ways, I won't mind at all if my children don't have to deal with that. Or at least not as much.”

She felt him getting closer, and then he squeezed her hand. “I guess I can see that,” he said in a low voice. “But I still feel like-- like it's not fair that this got decided for you. For us.”

“As opposed to the usual way, which would be us deciding how our kid expresses genetic inheritance?”

“No, that's not--” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean!”

“I do,” she assured him. Now that she had started to put her thoughts and feelings into words, though, she was more and more certain that this didn't have to be a problem for her. “Okay, let's turn it around, and come up with something more hypothetical. How about...” Yes, that was the kind of idea she needed, to communicate these thoughts to him. “What if when you met me, I already had a kid? A baby, or a toddler. What if I was a single mom? That child would have none of your DNA at all. Would that change how you feel about me? Could we still be a family?”

Wyatt stared at her, almost offended. “Of course we could. That wouldn't have changed anything about how I feel about you, Lucy.”

“I believe you,” she said, meeting his gaze. “And I'd feel the same way, if I'd met you and you already had a child. Do you see where I'm going with this?”

He blew out a breath, and nodded. “Yeah.”

She leaned against him then, still holding his hand in hers. “I'm not sad that our baby is going to have a lot in common with you, Wyatt,” she told him. “I'll be a little sad when you two can go flying together and I can't join you, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“So what you're saying is, one problem at a time.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.” He let go of her hand so he could put that arm around her. “But I'm still going to hope that our little boy or girl gets as much as he or she can get from your side.”

She smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. A few seconds later, he covered her hand with his other one.

“So, um,” he said a few seconds later, shifting a little in his seat, “we should also probably talk about the fact that newborn Brightstars apparently have a lot of feathers.”

“Yeah, it sounds like we're going to have to be extra careful to keep this baby warm, for the first several months,” she said, with a slight frown. “Like … a hen with her chicks, I guess.”

At that, he let out a strangled sound and scooted away from her, rubbing both hands over his face. “Please, no bird metaphors. I think I'll be able to handle all of this, but not if you keep using those.”

“Fine.” Lucy raised her eyebrows. “You know, neither of us are human.”

“I know.” He shook his head and gave her a self-deprecating smile. “It's just, sometimes it all feels weirder than others.”

She laughed once and said, “Yeah, I get that.” After all, before moving to the Wild Lands, it wasn't like either of them had had much chance to just spend time getting used to the changes they had undergone.

~~


	12. Chapter 12

~~  
Flynn was right. Rufus hated to admit it to himself, but there was no denying it. Flynn had predicted this scenario right after he started accompanying Rufus on trips in the Lifeboat – and now here it was, playing out pretty much just like he had described it. Rufus only hoped the rest of the scenario would play out how his new teammate had told him, too. And ideally, very soon. Otherwise the Time Team 2.0 was going to be short a pilot as well as a historian.

“I really don't want to have to hurt you, Rufus,” Emma was saying, as she paced around him in this dark corner of the even darker warehouse. “But you have to admit, it doesn't seem very likely that you're telling me the truth.”

“Well, Emma,” said Rufus, straining against the ropes tying him to this uncomfortable metal chair, “you have to admit it doesn't seem likely from _my_ point of view that you aren't going to hurt me. So I don't really see the point of sharing anything I might or might not know with you, since either way it's probably going to hurt.” His heart was pounding, but he was a lot less terrified than he would have thought he'd be, in this situation.

Emma rolled her eyes and came closer, holding out her knife so that Rufus could see it better. “Look, just tell me where Lucy and Wyatt are,” she said, “and I'll cut those ropes for you. You can leave, go back to the Lifeboat, and I won't stop you. I probably should, but I won't. And I won't even use any magic on you.”

Rufus blinked and forced himself not to stare at the knife too much. He had to concentrate on staying alive, and keeping Emma talking. “So is this why you came to this time and place? No historical meddling on the menu at all – just here to grab me?”

“You're very clever,” was Emma's slightly mocking response. “Now. Where are they?”

“I don't know.” Technically speaking, that was accurate. He didn't know where their house was in the Wild Lands, and he didn't know if they were even there at the moment.

“And if you knew, you'd tell me?” She was leaning closer now, with the knife blade pointed at his throat.

Rufus swallowed. “No. I would not.”

“Loyal and clever,” she said, and then shook her head. “Too bad. I wanted to give you a chance to get out of here in one piece. Remember that.”

Rufus strained to back away as far as he could, which was really no distance at all. Where the hell was Flynn? He wasn't dead, or Emma would have made sure Rufus knew that. “Okay, wait, wait,” he said to her quickly, as the blade got close enough that he could no longer see it under his chin, “maybe-- maybe we can work something out.”

Just as Emma started to reply, there was a muffled thud from outside the nearest door. Emma stepped away – taking the knife with her, to Rufus's intense relief. “What the hell?” she muttered.

As the Rittenhouse pilot hurried over to the door, Rufus heard the distinct sound of a gunshot from the same location. Then there was a scream, which was cut off suddenly. And then there was something that sounded an awful lot like a growl.

Rufus saw Emma flinch back at that, and she swore. She fumbled for the gun at her waist. “Who's there?” she called. “Ryan, what's your status?”

Another growl was the only response. “I don't think Ryan's doing so well,” said Rufus. He'd gotten the impression, during the last month or so, that he was part of a very small group of people who knew about Flynn's status as a Wer. He hadn't ever brought it up with Flynn, because having learned from Wyatt and Lucy about the dude's ability to transform into a gigantic wolf at will didn't exactly make him _less_ intimidating. But now it looked like Flynn was willing to reveal his secret. Assuming it was him out there. God, he hoped it was Flynn out there, and not some other Wer attacking for no apparent reason.

Face paler than usual, Emma shot a look at him. Then she seemed to make a decision. She moved in the general direction of the door, fired one round, and then turned to run the opposite way. She was out of Rufus's view and swallowed up by the darkness of the warehouse in seconds.

Well. He hadn't exactly seen that coming. Rufus cleared his throat and called out, “Flynn? Uh, can you hear me? Emma-- Emma just took off, though I guess I can't be sure she's gone so you should probably be careful.”

The door several yards away rattled, and then opened. “It's really very touching, how you care about my welfare, Rufus,” said Flynn, standing in the doorway. He rubbed his arm across his mouth. “But you're right. We need to be sure she's gone.” He took one step inside, and then cocked his head to listen.

Evidently she was really gone, because a few seconds later the man came over to where Rufus was, and immediately took out a knife to cut the ropes. “You all right?”

Rufus winced as circulation returned to his hands. And then he caught sight of the smear of blood next to Flynn's mouth, and tried not to stare. “Uh, yeah. Nothing that getting the hell out of here won't fix.” He cleared his throat again. “You?”

“I'm fine. Let's go.”

Rufus followed Flynn out of the warehouse, pointedly not looking at the bloodied body of Ryan just outside the door. “She wasn't trying to mess with history this time,” he told his teammate. “So this was just like you said: a way for her to get me by myself, so she could make me tell her what I know about Lucy and Wyatt.”

Flynn just nodded. He really hadn't turned out to be any chattier than he'd seemed back when he was the bad guy. Rufus sighed.

It wasn't until they were almost at the Lifeboat that Rufus spoke again. “How did you know Emma would, uh, react the way she did? She could've, I don't know, tried harder to shoot you instead of running away.”

Flynn shrugged. “Just a hunch. I know that many old-school mages tend to be frightened of us for various reasons. I figured I'd see whether Emma fit that category.”

“Huh.” Rufus had a shrewd idea there was a lot more to that story than just a general tendency Flynn had recognized – but he also knew the man wasn't likely to share details, even if pressed. So instead, he just said, “Well, I'm glad it worked. And thanks.”

The other man nodded again. As they climbed into the Lifeboat, he said, “Will you tell Lucy and Wyatt about this in your next update?”

Rufus gave him a look, but Flynn seemed to be asking sincerely. So he thought about it as he got the machine ready to travel back to the present. “I don't think so,” he said finally. “They don't need to be worrying about things like this.”

“So you'll skip informing them about this Lifeboat excursion altogether, then?”

Stopping just as he was about to flip the final switch, Rufus let out a breath. Damn it. That was a good point. There was no way he could tell his friends about this trip if he didn't also explain why Emma was in this time period in the first place. And making something up wasn't an option, with Lucy's knowledge of history. It felt dishonest not to mention the trip at all, though. Emma hadn't even been taking out the Mothership all that often lately, so each time was clearly important. “I'll have to think about it,” he said, and then started their trip back to Mason Industries.

If Flynn replied, Rufus didn't hear it over the noise of the machine.

~~  
The weeks passed. Lucy and Wyatt continued to see Dr. Zella, and their appointments continued to go well. Lucy and the baby entered the second trimester still healthy, with everything developing on schedule. The doctor had asked them at their week fourteen appointment if they wanted to see if the ultrasound would show the gender of their baby. “Of course, he or she might decide to be shy and not show us this time,” she also warned with a little laugh.

Wyatt looked at Lucy. They had already agreed early on that they would be happy with either a boy or girl. He thought they had also agreed they wanted to know as soon as possible, but now she looked unsure. “Whatever you want,” he said, squeezing her hand. He could wait, if she wanted them to. He didn't know if he could wait all the way until their kid was born, but he could try.

Lucy nodded after a moment. “Let's see what we can see,” she said.

But their baby had apparently decided to be shy – or maybe stubborn was the better word, given its parents. “See right there,” said Dr. Zella, pointing at the image on the screen, “the legs are crossed. Maybe next time, if this little one is more cooperative then!”

At least the doctor assured them this kind of thing was totally normal, Wyatt thought as they left her office. He wondered how long they would end up waiting to know for sure. He knew Rufus and Jiya wanted to know as soon as possible (Rufus had reiterated this in his latest letter). Either way, though, it had been amazing as usual to see how much their kid had grown since last time.

They weren't scheduled to have another appointment for another month, since the pregnancy was still progressing so well. So Wyatt wasn't totally surprised when Lucy suggested the next day that they should take a few longer sightseeing trips – not just for part of a day, but maybe two or three days at a time. “This might be the only chance we have to do a lot of exploring in the Wild Lands,” she pointed out. “We can bring some books with us to keep doing our research on everything, and I'm pretty sure I can still keep in communication with Rufus. But I just, I want to take advantage of this time.”

Wyatt didn't deny that sounded appealing. He'd had some thoughts about traveling with her, himself. On the other hand, the Wild Lands were dangerous (hence the name). Any place they went that was, well, more out in the wild than they already were would include a corresponding increase in risk. “If we can find some trips that will be safe for us,” he said, after a long pause, “then I agree, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Safe?” Lucy raised an eyebrow. “From who? Rittenhouse?”

“Well, them, too,” he said. “But I was more thinking the, uh, wildlife.”

She looked confused for a second, and then her eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn't even thought about that side of things.” But then she shook her head. “There's got to be some trips that people recommend, that are pretty safe. I mean, we're not the only people who have ever wanted to see more of the Wild Lands.”

“I guess.”

“Besides, neither of us are exactly defenseless,” she pointed out. She touched his right arm, and suddenly he found the skin there getting cold.

“Hey!” he protested, pulling away while she grinned at him. “All right, I get your point. Let's look at some vacation options.”

Their first trip was uneventful – or at least, the only events were pleasant ones that the couple enjoyed. They drove out to a sort of resort (much more rustic than that word usually implied to Wyatt) on a beautiful, secluded lake surrounded by forested mountains, and stayed in the lodge over a weekend. It was gorgeous out there. Though, Wyatt reflected with no regret on their last night, they had spent at least as much time inside as they had spent outside exploring. The whole experience was like a little honeymoon, and it just reinforced an idea he'd had brewing in the back of his mind for weeks now. He told himself he would take some steps toward making that idea a reality before their next doctor's appointment. He just needed to man up and do it.

The second trip did not go nearly as smoothly. It started well enough, other than almost getting lost on the way to the guesthouse. But the owner of the place was a friendly, motherly type who was delighted that two “young lovebirds” had chosen her establishment. She fed them a delicious dinner that made up for the extra time on the road getting out there.

It was the next day that things went wrong in ways that Wyatt hadn't even imagined.

The two of them were on a walk in the park in protected state land that was just a quarter mile away from the guesthouse. Their hostess had recommended this trail as a non-strenuous walk with plenty of lovely scenery, which appealed to them. (They hadn't told the older lady that Lucy was pregnant, but from her comments and the way she kept looking at them both and fussing over Lucy, especially, they were beginning to think she'd guessed.)

“It really is lovely out here,” Lucy said, looking up at the trees around them that were spaced far enough apart to let in plenty of sunlight. A brightly-colored bird with a long tail flew by at that moment, dazzling the two observers.

“It is,” Wyatt agreed. He was watching her at least as often as he looked at their surroundings, reveling in how happy and relaxed she was. He reached into the pocket of his jeans for the small box there, wondering when the right moment would present itself. Or whether that would be on this trip at all. Then he gave himself a mental shake. There was no need to be nervous.

They walked along at a leisurely pace for another several minutes. Lucy was a few steps ahead of him on the trail. “I think I hear a stream up ahead,” she said. “I bet that'll make for even more gorgeous views.”

“I bet you're right.”

He was about to say something further when Lucy suddenly called out, “Race you!” and took off around the bend in the trail without waiting for his reply. With a little grumble at her cheating, Wyatt sped to follow...

And almost ran into her when he came around the corner and she was standing stock-still. “Huh. You didn't make it much of a challenge,” he was about to say, when he noticed where she was looking.

Across the little pond with a stream flowing into and out of it, visible through a few trees, there was a wide patch of land that looked like a fire or maybe a tornado had ripped through it. Or maybe both: it was all torn up, and the remaining shattered trees and bushes looked blackened. “What the hell?” Wyatt shivered, and his right arm tingled. Something about this felt very, very wrong.

“I've never seen anything like it,” Lucy whispered. “Definitely not in the Wild Lands, anyway.”

Wyatt was just about to suggest they turn around and go back to the guesthouse when they both heard what sounded like a child screaming, from inside the destroyed area. There was no hesitation. Lucy started to run toward the sound, with Wyatt right beside her. He was strongly tempted to fly, in fact, except that he didn't know the situation they were heading into and so he couldn't leave Lucy unprotected.

The closer they got to the destroyed swath of land, the more wrong it felt. Wyatt had been in war zones, areas that had been bombed or shot to pieces – but this was worse somehow. And that was even before he saw the source of the scream.

It was, in fact, a child. It looked like a little girl, maybe five or six, who had climbed into a tree to escape the unimaginably terrifying creature that was now coiled at the tree's base. Wyatt stopped dead. His sword was in his hand immediately. What the _hell_ was this thing?! It was ugly and menacing, and even from several yards away, it pretty much radiated evil.

Lucy gasped. “My God,” she said in a low voice. “I-- I think that's a basilisk, Wyatt. They're supposed to be extremely dangerous. They use their venom to destroy … everything.”

A basilisk? Wyatt tried to remember anything he'd ever heard or read about them. All he really recalled hearing was they were snakelike, which was definitely true. This thing was like a huge snake, as thick around as a man, not very long but with a definite tail. Its upper body, though, was almost humanoid other than the reptilian jaw and eyes. And the fact that it had a total of six limbs.

The terrified little girl wasn't all that high up in the tree, and the basilisk looked like it was getting ready to reach up to her. “Jussssst look at me,” the creature hissed at her, “and then you won't have be ssso afraid, little morssssel.”

Now that his attention was drawn to that detail, Wyatt noticed that the girl was in fact not looking at the basilisk – or at least not at its face. At its eyes, he remembered suddenly. Basilisks were supposed to be able to do something to you if you met their eyes. He just didn't recall exactly what that was.

Just then, Lucy moved a hand toward the tree. Since she was standing so close to him, Wyatt could sort of feel the movement of the magic as she cast the spell. The basilisk certainly felt its result, as it drew back from the tree with a hiss of rage. It looked around for the source – and saw them.

“Ahhhh,” the creature said, a cold smile on its face. It all but ignored Lucy. “A Brightsssstar. What great fortune! Why don't you come closssser, young fellow?”

With a jolt, Wyatt realized he had looked into the basilisk's eyes. He looked away quickly. But nothing had happened to him. He wasn't turning to stone, or hypnotized, or anything like that. The only thing that he noticed was how the creature's gaze made him feel cold all over. It was bearable, though unpleasant. “Don't look into its eyes,” he said under his breath to Lucy. Meanwhile, he raised his sword.

“Yeah, I remember,” she whispered back. “What do we do now?”

“We've got to get the girl away from it.” That was easier said than done, he knew, despite the fact that the basilisk had moved its body away from the tree so it could face its new targets.

“And thissss must be your mate,” the basilisk was saying then, gesturing toward Lucy, “the mage who disrupted my earlier game.” It put out its forked tongue between its hideous fangs for a moment, and then smiled again. “But how fantassssstic! Her scent tells me she carries yet another Brightssstar for me.”

Wyatt now had a pretty good idea what the creature wanted with them, and it was enough to flood him with rage. He spread his wings without even thinking about it (it was a good thing he was wearing one of the shirts he and Lucy had worked on together to modify for this purpose, so his wings went through the slits in the material rather than getting tangled under it). “You don't get to _have_ anyone here,” he snarled. The basilisk gave a dry laugh but didn't reply.

“Wyatt,” Lucy said quietly, but he interrupted her.

“I'm going to deal with this,” he said, taking a step toward the basilisk without furling his wings. “You get the kid.”

She put a hand on his arm, which forced him to turn and look at her. “All right, but please be careful,” she said. Her eyes were just on the edge of pleading.

He nodded. “I will. You be careful, too.”

With that, the two of them began to move across the blackened ground. The basilisk drew back slightly as they approached. It gave them both calculated looks in turn. Then it smiled again. When Lucy split off from Wyatt to try to circle around toward the tree, the creature slithered faster than seemed possible – right at her.

“NO!”

Wyatt flew, desperation making him cover ground at breakneck speed. But Lucy wasn't running away. She was now dividing her attention between the basilisk rushing toward her, and her continued (much slower) progress toward the little girl. She wasn't going to be able to stay out of her attacker's way. And he wasn't sure he was going to get to her in time. He _had_ to. There wasn't another option.

He dove forward, striking at the basilisk just as it lunged toward Lucy. Wyatt's aim wasn't as good as he would have liked – the blow glanced off instead of driving all the way into the flesh – but it still gouged deep along the basilisk's back and side. It shrieked in fury and pain, turning away from Lucy (who had almost fallen over in her attempt to dodge its attack) to face him. As he had hoped it would.

“You will regret that, Brightsssstar,” hissed the basilisk. It whipped the end of its tail around to try to knock Wyatt's feet out from under him, and growled when Wyatt jumped at just the right moment. When another lunge toward him met with no success as Wyatt dodged and then swung his sword at it again, the creature brought its tail around again – but not at Wyatt this time. This time, it crashed into the trunk of the tree with shattering force.

The little girl let out another scream, and there was an ominous cracking sound from the tree trunk. Lucy ran forward. That was when everything started happening too fast.

The basilisk saw Lucy and went for her again. This time, though, Wyatt wasn't the one who stopped it. It was Lucy, with a blast of magic that sent the creature tumbling backward. But it righted itself way too fast, now even more enraged and still gunning for Lucy. Wyatt forced it to pay attention to him instead, though, by stepping in front of it with his blade raised as the snakelike monster charged.

And then the basilisk somehow managed to toss Wyatt aside, knocking the wind out of him and probably bruising a few ribs as he collided with the uneven ground. It went for Lucy again immediately. Wyatt gasped for breath and tried to make himself get back up. Meanwhile, Lucy was defending herself with magic again. However, she didn't seem as on top of things as she had before. The basilisk was making her retreat with every attack. And then she stumbled.

This time, Wyatt had no breath to cry out in warning or anguish as the basilisk propelled itself forward – all but on top of Lucy. She screamed. The monster was clearly trying to bite her, but she held it off with what must have been some kind of invisible shield spell. It was still far too close to her, though. Wyatt finally pulled himself up and ran toward the two, bringing out his blade as he did so.

Just as he was getting close enough to strike, Lucy let out another cry and froze for a moment. Wyatt felt his heart stop. He hadn't seen exactly what had just happened; his view was obscured by the basilisk that was still crouched over her. But the basilisk pulled its head back and grinned horribly. That couldn't be a good sign. Wyatt tried to prepare himself for the worst as he closed the remaining distance.

As he came up behind the creature and stabbed it in the other side, Wyatt chanced a quick look at Lucy. Whatever had been done to her, Lucy wasn't totally done yet. He parried an attack from the enraged but now seriously impaired basilisk. Meanwhile, Lucy grimaced and shut her eyes (had there been something wrong with her eyes just then? Wyatt hoped he had imagined it), and then brought her arms up to blast in front of her with magic yet again. This time, the blast was even stronger. It blew him backward at least ten yards, and he'd only caught the edge of it. The basilisk, on the other hand, shot away through the air, and then its head struck a boulder with a satisfying crunch. It didn't move again.

He had barely made it back to Lucy's side when the kid in the tree screamed. There was another crack, and as he whirled around to look, the whole tree shuddered and started to list to one side. Clearly, what the basilisk had done to the trunk was about to bring the tree down.

Wyatt looked from Lucy to the little girl, feeling panic growing as he heard the child's cries. Lucy was hurt. She needed his help, and it couldn't wait. But at the same time, that tree was perilously close to falling. If it fell, there was no way the girl would escape without being badly injured or even killed. He had to choose between the two. And he was deeply afraid he was going to choose wrong.

Just as he was about to stand, maybe try to carry Lucy closer so he could at least attempt to catch the girl before she fell, he saw something approaching through the air. Something winged. Something – some _one_ – carrying a sword.

It was another Brightstar. Wyatt swallowed his shock and stood up. “Get the girl!” he called out, gesturing toward the collapsing tree.

The woman, thankfully, was close enough to have heard him. “Understood,” she called back. “You see to your mate!”

Wyatt only vaguely noticed another use of that word. Now that he knew the little girl wasn't going to fall, he turned his focus on Lucy. She was shuddering and shaking, and her eyes were open with that awful gray blankness he'd thought he had glimpsed earlier. “Lucy,” he said, crouching down and choking back a sob. That wasn't helpful. He had to find out what was wrong – what _else_ was wrong – and fix it.

That was when he saw the spot of blood on her upper right arm. It was a scratch. It wasn't even very big. He would have dismissed it, except the skin around it looked red and inflamed. And if basilisk venom was that deadly, was it too far-fetched to think even a scratch from their claws could cause such a strong reaction?

Wyatt didn't waste any more time. He produced his sword, shrank it to its manageable size for this purpose, and cut his left palm (like he had done for Rufus all those months ago, in what almost seemed like another life). Trying not to let his hand shake, he then dripped some blood into the angry wound on her arm.

The effects were close to immediate. First, the swelling went down, and then the bleeding stopped as the gash healed over. A few seconds after that, there was only a tiny smudge of dried blood, and Lucy had stopped shaking. Her eyes didn't look all that much better, though. They were still cloudy, not the clear green they should have been. She blinked, and then took a sharp breath. “Wyatt,” she said, “are-- are you there?”

“I'm here,” he said, reabsorbing his blade so he could touch her face with the hand that wasn't still bleeding a little bit. She flinched slightly under his touch, but then relaxed. He had to ask. “Can you see me?”

He could see her fear as she shook her head once. “Not really.” A tear leaked down her cheek. “Just-- just a shadow. I guess I must have looked at the damn thing's eyes. My shield spell must not have quite worked for that.”

“She still needs further healing,” said a voice from behind them. Wyatt jumped, and turned to see the other Brightstar, holding the little girl in her arms. The girl's face was tear-streaked and dirty, but she didn't look hurt. The woman, who had red hair and seemed to be near Lucy's age, nodded toward Lucy. “Your mate. She still needs you to attend to her eyes directly, right away if you don't want the blindness to be permanent.”

“You mean--?” Wyatt opened his left hand, revealing the cut that was already mostly healed. When the woman nodded again, he quickly reopened the wound. “Okay, Lucy. Hold still and try to keep your eyes open.”

Lucy blinked again, but then held still as he let one drop fall into each of her eyes. Then she blinked several more times. To Wyatt's intense relief, her eyes now looked to have gone back to their normal color. And then she looked right at him, and smiled. “There you are.”

“Oh, thank God.” Wyatt put away his sword and pulled her into his arms as he knelt there, wrapping his wings around her as well. Then he froze as he thought about another potential disaster. “Lucy,” he said quietly right into her ear, mindful of their audience, “do you know-- can you tell, is the baby all right?”

She gasped, and pulled away from him a little. Shutting her eyes, she put one hand over her belly. Wyatt held his breath. Then she opened her eyes with another smile, wider than before. “I felt the heartbeat, just like I've felt it before. It's fine.”

He felt like he might just collapse in relief. “Good,” he said, aware his voice had just cracked. “That's really good to hear.”

“You two are all right, then?” said the redheaded Brightstar. She seemed to have backed up, to give them some privacy. The girl in her arms, Wyatt saw, was alternating between staring up at her rescuer and over at Wyatt.

“Yeah,” Wyatt answered. He was about to hold out a hand to help Lucy stand up, but she beat him to it. With a brief grin, he allowed her to support him as he stood. He did still have some sore ribs after the fight, he noted. Then he turned back to the woman. “Thank you. And, uh, thanks for … showing up when you did, and telling me what to do with the-- the healing.”

“Yes,” added Lucy. “Thank you.”

Before the other Brightstar could say anything, the little girl spoke up. “Are you and that man angels?”

The woman looked puzzled, but Wyatt laughed even as he blushed a little. “Now, why would you think that?” he asked, as he and Lucy went over to join the other two. On closer inspection, the kid looked to be human. Which was odd.

The human girl gave him a confused look. “Because you both have wings,” she said, as if it was obvious. “And you save people, and I saw you have swords that you can make appear and disappear.”

“You're very observant, little chick,” said the woman, gently setting her down. “What's your name?”

“Stephanie Weaver,” she said. “What's yours?”

“I'm Estella,” the Brightstar said. When she looked expectantly at Wyatt and Lucy, they went ahead and introduced themselves, as well. (Wyatt decided to trust these two with his real name, and Lucy didn't seem to object since she didn't use her alias, either. If anyone was trustworthy, a fellow Brightstar and a little kid probably were.)

Solemn now, Stephanie looked up at the adults, and then at the woman in particular. “Thank you, Miss Lucy and Miss Estella and Mr. Wyatt, for saving me from that snake monster.” She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The shirt she was wearing looked thin and ragged, Wyatt noted. “I-- I think he wanted to eat me.”

“You're safe now,” said Estella, bending down so she could talk to the girl face to face. “I know that must have been very scary, but we're going to help you get back home now. All right?”

The little girl nodded. Then her lip started to tremble, and then suddenly she was sobbing. Estella barely had time to react before Stephanie had launched herself into the woman's arms.

Lucy and Wyatt stood there, feeling a little superfluous, as Estella comforted Stephanie as best she could. “Poor kid,” Lucy murmured. “I don't think I even want to imagine what she's been through.”

“How a human girl ended up in the middle of the Wild Lands, being hunted by a basilisk?” Wyatt shook his head. “Yeah.” Any reasons he could think of for how this could have happened were all really, really terrible.

“By the way,” she said then, looking at him, “thank you. For healing me.”

He returned her gaze, clenching his jaw as he remembered watching helplessly while the basilisk attacked her. “I'm sorry I couldn't stop it from happening to you in the first place.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “It's not like you were just standing there watching.” She looked him over, her brow creasing again. “How are you doing, anyway? I know you heal fast, but...”

“I'm okay,” he told her. “A few bruises, but they're fading.”

“Good.” She touched his hand, and then nodded toward the pair in front of them. “What are we going to do next? I mean, we can't just leave Estella to take care of getting the girl back home, can we?”

“Probably not,” Wyatt agreed. He couldn't imagine being okay with that. On the other hand, he and Lucy were trying to maintain a low profile, and taking a possible trafficking victim back across the Boundary could pose a risk to that. He ran a hand through his hair.

Just then, Estella saved them the trouble of wondering how to move forward. Still holding Stephanie (who had started to calm herself by this point), she spoke up. “I'm going to take Stephanie to the nearest Boundary crossing and speak to the Boundary Enforcement guards there. Would either of you two care to come with me?”

They looked at each other. “We do want to come,” said Wyatt, “but, uh, that's a little more complicated than we'd like it to be.”

The other Brightstar blinked, and then looked between the two of them. “What's wrong?”

“We normally live in the human world,” Lucy explained, “and we'd still be there, except there are … people looking for us.”

Estella was now alarmed. “You're in danger? Then let me help you, after I help Stephanie get back to her home.”

“Is there a monster after you, too?” Stephanie asked, her eyes wide. She clung even tighter to Estella, who didn't seem bothered.

“No, sweetheart,” said Lucy, giving the little girl a reassuring smile. “Just some mean people who want to make Wyatt and me do bad things. So we had to get away from them.”

“And stay hidden if we can,” added Wyatt. He met both Stephanie's eyes and Estella's.

“I see,” said Estella, and by her expression it really seemed like she did. “I'm sorry to hear you've run across those who would exploit you. It can be difficult for us – and our allies – to try to balance our drive to help people with the need to stay safe.”

Wyatt thought about everything he'd learned about Brightstars and their history. Given that, it wasn't too surprising that Estella might have some idea what Lucy and he were dealing with. “Yeah, it's not easy,” he said. Next to him, Lucy took his hand.

“Well, Stephanie and I will be all right,” Estella went on, smiling at the girl. Then she turned to the other two. “I'm glad I arrived in time to help resolve the situation, though I'm sorry I wasn't in time to keep the basilisk from causing you harm, Lucy.”

“Oh, please don't worry about it,” Lucy said quickly. “We would have been in a lot worse shape if you hadn't gotten here when you did.”

“Definitely,” Wyatt agreed. “Thank you again.”

Estella smiled again, almost shy. “It's my honor and pleasure to help,” was her response.

Lucy said, “Estella, are you sure you'll be okay taking care of Stephanie by yourself? I mean, like you said a minute ago, we want to be sure no one tries to-- exploit you, either.”

“I appreciate your concern,” said Estella with a nod, “but I'm sure we'll be fine.” She patted Stephanie's arm. “After all, I have this one to help keep an eye out for trouble. Right?”

Stephanie nodded seriously. “Right.”

“Good.”

“Still. We could go with you part of the way,” Lucy insisted.

Wyatt was about to say they should leave it since Estella had said they could, but then something occurred to him. “Yeah, if you don't mind. For one thing, uh, I'd like to talk to you a little about-- about Brightstars. I've never met another one.”

The woman brightened. “Oh. Well, in that case, please come along for as long as you want,” she said with a smile. “I hope I can also convince you two to come visit the rest of us – the Brightstar community – sometime. Our reserve is hidden from all non-Brightstars, but I imagine you wouldn't have too much trouble seeing it, Lucy, as long as you're with Wyatt. You're obviously a very powerful mage, after all.”

That was an intriguing comment. Lucy didn't deny Estella's description of her, though her eyebrows rose. “I'm sure we'd both love to visit you all,” she said.

“Absolutely,” Wyatt said. It was still hard for him to wrap his mind around the idea of there being this large group of his distant relatives – but he wasn't going to miss out on the opportunity to meet them just because of that. And he was looking forward to getting to know Estella some more, as well.

The four of them went back along the trail that Lucy and Wyatt had walked just an hour or so earlier. Wyatt knew he wasn't the only one glancing back at the devastation they were leaving behind. That whole incident had been terrifying – and not just because of the sheer evil of the basilisk. He knew it would take him a long time to forget how Lucy had looked on the ground, eyes all gray and in obvious pain.

Thinking about Lucy reminded Wyatt of something else crucial that he really hoped hadn't gotten lost in the shuffle. He kept the movement as surreptitious as possible as he felt for the box in his pocket … and let out a sigh of relief. The ring was still there. He hadn't lost another one.

“Wyatt?” Lucy was looking at him in mild concern. “Are you okay?”

He put his hands down at his sides quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.”

She didn't seem convinced, but she let it slide. So now Wyatt just had to see if there would be a moment during this trip, after everything was resolved, when he could finally pop the question. He was ready. He thought (he hoped) Lucy was, too.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I know it's been more than four months (!!) since the last chapter. My apologies. Life got crazy (a cross-country move, etc.). But then I got extremely excited about the news that season 2 has finally started filming, and inspiration returned!
> 
> Thanks to those who are still reading. Hopefully it's worth the wait.
> 
> Also, if you're interested, the basilisk Wikipedia article has a lot of interesting stuff on them - a lot more than what's in Harry Potter.


	13. Chapter 13

~~

She was being ridiculous. Lucy was sure. Or at least, she was mostly sure. It was just that Wyatt had been so quiet, so distracted, ever since they had gotten back to their house late last night after the incident with the basilisk. That wasn't even mentioning that conversation with Estella. And so Lucy hadn't been able to totally stop herself from going down her usual route: worrying.

It wasn't just one thing she was worrying about, either. Yes, she was definitely concerned about Wyatt's mental state, now that he had actually met one of his distant relatives. Hearing about their existence from Annas and Serah was one thing, but meeting Estella face to face was a whole other story. Lucy knew she could only begin to imagine what all this must be like for him. She and he would need to sit down and talk about it. Today would be best.

That led her right to her other area of anxiety – one that she had much less of an idea how to resolve. Sure, she could sit down and talk with Wyatt about his thoughts and feelings about the previous topic. But she didn't think she could bring herself to talk to him about this-- this new level of insecurity she was dealing with now. She didn't know how to even bring up her worry (it was so ridiculous, wasn't it?) that once he visited the Brightstar reserve, he wouldn't want to leave. He wouldn't want to go back to the human world at all, and he'd want his child to stay there, too. And in turn, that would mean he'd resent her, if she wasn't as interested in staying there. He'd resent the obligation of going back to deal with Rittenhouse, instead of staying where he belonged, with the rest of the Brightstars.

“Lucy?”

Lucy jumped and turned around. She had been standing in the kitchen for who knew how long after washing her breakfast dishes. “Sorry, I-- I didn't hear you.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” he said with a smile. The smile faded as he searched her face. “Lucy, is everything okay?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” she said. “We haven't really had a chance to talk, since we got back. And, well, a lot happened.”

“It did,” he agreed.

“And I could tell you weren't really sleeping last night.”

Wyatt's eyes widened a little, and then to Lucy's surprise, he looked down with a smile that she would have called … bashful? Nervous? “You're right,” he said, meeting her gaze again. “But it wasn't because I'm – upset, or anything.”

“Really?” She cocked her head. “Because that was-- I mean, if you were, it would hardly be surprising.”

He nodded and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I appreciate that,” he told her. “And I promise, we can have a good, long talk about the basilisk attacking us both, Stephanie, Estella, and the possibility of visiting the Brightstar reserve. But there's something else I want to talk to you about first.”

“Okay.” Taking a breath, she told herself to focus. “What is it?”

The slight nervousness was back as he cleared his throat and said, “How would you feel about, um, flying with me? This morning, I mean. There's a place not far from here that I want to show you, and the view should be great this time of day. With the sunrise and everything.” He waved a hand toward the kitchen window.

Lucy glanced out that window for just a moment. They had both woken up far too early this morning, but the benefit to that was the sun was just starting to come up over the horizon. “So, leaving as soon as possible?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled sharply. “So? You up for it?”

She thought back to the previous times she'd flown in Wyatt's arms, and didn't bother to do anything to stop the smile from spreading across her face. “Yes,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. Whatever he was nervous about, she wasn't going to turn down his offer. “But I'm betting it's a little chilly out there, so just let me put on some warmer clothes first.”

“Good idea. I'll get a jacket, too.”

When she got out of the bedroom, Wyatt was there waiting near the front door. “You ready?” he asked.

Lucy zipped up her jacket. “Yep. Let's go.”

Nervous or not, there was no hint of uncertainty in how Wyatt scooped her up into his arms, and then waited until she was settled against him. He smiled down at her and asked again if she was ready.

“Go for it,” Lucy said, returning his smile with a thrill of anticipation. Sure, it was a bit awkward to fly this way, but she'd take what she could get. And being this close to Wyatt was really never a drawback.

When he pushed off into the air, Lucy shut her eyes for just a second, but then opened them again. She wanted to enjoy the trip as much as she could. In a few months, after all, she would probably be too big for them to do this – at least for a while. She wanted to soak it all in.

Wyatt stayed silent as he flew. She wasn't surprised by this; even at a pretty slow pace, the wind rushing past them would have made it hard to hear each other. That factor also made her eyes water just a little. She blinked several times. The view around them was lovely, though. They were flying over the northern edge of the forest that surrounded their property, toward a slight rise that Lucy didn't think she had explored much at all. In fact, it looked like it might be hard to get to on foot. Wyatt must have flown this way by himself on one of his solo flights.

It wasn't too much longer before Wyatt started to descend. Lucy braced herself and shut her eyes again. She didn't generally enjoy this part.

“I've got you,” Wyatt said, and she felt his voice resonate through her where she leaned against him.

“I know,” she said, and of course she did. She opened her eyes just in time for them to touch down. There was a little bit of a jolt, but it really wasn't too bad. Wyatt set her down.

The sun was still just in the process of rising as she looked around the hilltop where they had landed. It was, as Wyatt had promised, a gorgeous view. Across the valley, the sky was being painted in an amazing array of colors by the rising sun, and the distant hills that made up the horizon seemed almost to be absorbing and reflecting those colors. Lucy let out a sigh of wonder and contentment. This was … well, it was definitely worth a short journey to see.

Wyatt stood silently beside her, his hand in hers, while the sun rose. The colors started to fade into the light of day. And then, just as Lucy was turning to thank Wyatt for the thoughtfulness of suggesting they come out here, he released her hand – so he could get down on one knee. And now he was reaching into his pocket for a little black jewelry box. Lucy gasped.

He looked up at her, blue eyes focused on her face, and took in a deep breath. “This has been a long time coming. Too long. I wanted to do this during our vacation, but other stuff kept getting in the way. So I promised myself I wouldn't let anything else push it back any further.”

While Lucy tried to keep breathing, Wyatt went on, “Lucy, I've loved you for-- honestly, with the lives we lead, I'm not sure how long it's been now.” He gave a sheepish smile, and she gave a choked little laugh in response. Then he was serious again. “But no matter whether we're in the present or the past, or the Wild Lands or the human world, whether we're fighting Rittenhouse or Flynn, or just figuring out how to live this-- this crazy life we're trying to build together, you're my constant. You're always the same incredibly smart, brave, beautiful, amazing Lucy. Now that I'm with you, I have no doubt that that's where I'm meant to be: right beside you, and our kid.”

She was crying now, but she wiped the tears away quickly. She didn't want anything to get in the way of being able to see this moment.

“So.” He swallowed and then carefully opened the ring box – right-side up, this time. “Lucy Preston, will you marry me?”

“Of course,” she said, or tried to – but found she had to clear her throat before any sound would come out. “Yes, of course I will, Wyatt!” She took both of his hands and helped him up. Then she was kissing him with enough enthusiasm that he almost staggered back a step.

Wyatt was only too happy to reciprocate. And in fact, they might have kept going for longer except that he laughed against her mouth and pulled away a little. “Not doing that again,” he said between panting breaths.

“Doing what?” Lucy asked, confused.

In answer, he held up the ring box. “I guess I could've blamed you for knocking it out of my hands,” he said, “but the result would've still been the same.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, but she was smiling. (She didn't think she could stop smiling if she tried.) “Then let's make sure it has no chance of getting lost,” she prompted.

Wyatt held out the ring for Lucy to see. It was simple but beautiful: a gold band with a lovely, classic white diamond setting. When she took it out and examined it more closely, her eyes widened. Based on the style and appearance up close, she was going to guess this was antique. “Where did you get this, Wyatt?” she asked, lifting her eyes to his.

He scratched the back of his head. “Well, um, I got it from an antiques dealer who posts really good descriptions and pictures of his stuff online,” he said. “But he says it was made right at the tail end of the California Gold Rush, from genuine California gold. Has the papers to prove it, too.”

Lucy stared. “Wyatt...” How had he found a ring that was a piece of history? _When_ had he found it? If he'd found it online, that meant it had to have been back in the human world. So he'd had it for months. And in that case, he must have been thinking about proposing, for months.

He shrugged, face turning slightly pink. “Well, are you going to let me put it on for you any time soon? Or did you want to do that yourself?”

At that, she rolled her eyes and handed him the ring. Despite his teasing, though, she could tell they were both overwhelmed by emotion as he slid it onto her ring finger. This was real. It was so much more real to her than that ridiculous huge rock Noah had given his timeline's Lucy. Now she had this outward, timeless symbol of their commitment to each other … and the promise of a wedding. Marriage, to Wyatt.

“It's lovely, Wyatt,” she said, looking up again and beaming at him. His words from his proposal came back to her then, after the distraction of her ring, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat again. “And-- and I hope you know that you're the one constant for me, too. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here with me.” She shook her head, and another few tears slipped out. “I don't want to think about it.”

“Then don't,” advised Wyatt, leaning in to brush the tears off her cheeks. “That's all I want, too: to be here for you, and...” He moved one hand down to the still barely-noticeable swell of her belly. “... And for this little one.”

“Well, that's what I like to hear – what _we_ like to hear,” replied Lucy, clearing her throat. Not that she had ever doubted what kind of a father he would be. Even at her most insecure about the future, that hadn't been an issue. “Wyatt, we're engaged.”

He nodded, smiling. “We are.”

She thought back to how worried she'd been earlier this morning, and let out a quiet laugh. She had let herself start thinking that deep down, Wyatt felt like he (and their child) belonged with his own kind – not with her. And now, without even having talked to him about it, he had thoroughly disproved that idea.

“What's funny?” Wyatt asked, taking her hand, with its new adornment, in his.

Lucy shook her head. “It's-- not important anymore. Just an, um, a question I had this morning before we left, but it's been answered now.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay.”

“And now,” Lucy went on, stepping closer to him, “I think I'd like to get back to the house, so we can do some celebrating. What do you think?”

“I like that idea,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. Then without warning, he swept her back into his arms, eliciting a shriek of surprise. “In fact, I don't think we should wait.”

At least Lucy was expecting the sensation of leaving the ground after that little maneuver. And if she'd been able to fly, she thought, watching her fiancé's(!) face and feeling him as he held her close, she knew she would have done the same thing.

Later, after a very pleasant, extended period of celebration, Lucy was leaning against Wyatt's chest while he sat with his back against the headboard. He was combing his fingers through her hair in slow, easy strokes, and Lucy thought she might just melt from sheer contentment.

That was, until a thought struck her and caused her feeling of well-being to start to melt away, itself. She frowned and turned over, so she could look at Wyatt in the face.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raised at her expression.

“Wyatt, I want us to get married,” she said.

He chuckled, and once again she felt the vibrations of his voice through her where she rested against him. “Well, yeah,” he said, resuming his strokes through her hair that she'd halted by turning over. “I thought we'd pretty much settled that when I proposed, and you said yes. Remember?”

She swatted him on the collarbone. “That's not what I meant! I mean...” She huffed a breath, and glanced at her ring before going on, “I mean, I don't want to have to wait until some unknown future date when things are safe enough to go back. But I don't know how that's going to work – getting married while we're out here. And...” This time, she didn't finish the sentence. The pain of the words, sudden as it was, was too much.

Wyatt sighed, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You miss them. Rufus, Jiya – and your mom.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. It wasn't fair that she could still miss her mom so much, even after everything. And the idea of getting married without any of her friends and family there … that wasn't going to be easy to swallow.

“Well, I agree that I don't want to hold off until who knows when, even though I miss our friends, too,” he said after a pause. “I've done a little bit of research about marriage in the Wild Lands, actually. If you wanted, we could have a small, official ceremony here – sort of like the city hall or courthouse thing in the human world – and then have another actual wedding ceremony with our friends when we get back.”

Lucy nodded, still frowning a little. “We could. I don't hate that idea.” She'd been thinking along similar lines, though she hadn't looked into any details like Wyatt evidently had. Thinking about it, in fact, she had a shrewd idea that part of his motivation to propose now and research marriage laws was to make sure they would be married before their child was born. He was old-fashioned that way, and she didn't mind at all.

Then suddenly she stared at him, appalled at herself. They'd danced around the topic with the ring, but that didn't really count. “Oh – God, Wyatt, here I am talking about weddings and getting married, and I didn't think-- I mean, you've done this before, with Jessica, and I--”

“I have done it before,” he interrupted her, quiet but without hesitation. “And Jessica has been gone for a long time now, and I know she wouldn't want me to stay stuck in the past. So I'm happy to discuss all of this with you, Lucy.” He smiled. “Sure, it brings back memories. They're good memories, though, for the most part. I'm looking forward to making new memories with you, too.”

She let out a breath, and then smiled in return. He didn't seem at all upset. So at very least, the two of them could move forward with their plans. She still didn't know how, when, or where their real wedding – the one with the friends and the ceremony and vows – would happen, but she was so glad they were both on the same page about making it official as soon as possible.

~

They discussed wedding plans off and on throughout the day – no pressure, and no worry from Lucy that this topic was going to hurt Wyatt as it made him think about Jessica. By dinner, they had settled on a date to visit the nearest town hall. Wyatt had told her that according to his research, people who wanted a marriage certificate didn't usually need an appointment, though they might have to wait an hour or so to see the judge.

Their house was far enough away from the Boundary that complicated electronics (like computers and smart phones) didn't work all that well. So, that evening, the two figured out the best way to send an update on their news to Rufus: a discreet Polaroid photo of Lucy's ring on her hand, sent in the same kind of enchanted envelope they usually sent back and forth for news updates. It was only about ten minutes before Rufus responded with a short message in that same envelope.

Wyatt got to his message first and snorted, handing it to Lucy. “Very eloquent,” was his comment.

Lucy had to laugh when she read their friend's obviously quickly handwritten reply:

_So you guys are finally making it official, huh? Congrats! Jiya says I should tell you two things: #1, that took way too long, and #2, you better be planning a big celebration we (she) can be part of, or she'll feel majorly ripped off._

_I'll see if I can find a tux – maybe even one that isn't supplied by Mason Industries. Stay safe._

“Well, it sounds like they're both excited, in their own ways,” Lucy said, still smiling as she put the letter down on the table.

“Yep,” said Wyatt.

She sighed then, and stood up straight. “No mention of what Emma has been up to lately, though. Hopefully no news is good news.”

“Hopefully.” He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into him. “Agent Christopher will let us know if there's something we need to know.”

“Right.” She knew neither of them were totally satisfied with that answer, but it was what they had. And she also knew they were making the best choice available to them – for themselves and their child.

~

Wyatt Logan and Lucy Preston were married officially in the Wild Lands almost two weeks after Wyatt proposed. They had decided there was no point in dragging out the engagement period; they had been together for a long time now, and besides, it felt right to both of them to make sure their baby's family would be officially recognized.

The judge who oversaw the signing of the marriage certificate, as well as the official witness required by law, were under the impression they were there for the marriage of Eli Rogers and Lily (no last name, since she was a full-blooded elf born in the Wild Lands). The signatures in the official register matched those names – or at least, they would to anyone who wasn't looking at the illusion very purposefully and specifically to see what the couple's real names were. Lucy felt a little bad about the fraud they were committing, but she agreed completely with Wyatt that it was necessary. They just couldn't afford to have their real names on record anywhere even remotely public – not with the threat of Rittenhouse always looming in the background. At any rate, the marriage was still legal, since they had used their actual names in signing the marriage certificate.

So the deed was done. They left the town hall holding hands and beaming at each other. Both were now wearing wedding bands, and they were eager to get to the restaurant where they were having dinner to celebrate the occasion. (Lucy still looked forward to a real wedding in the future, but this was a very good first step.)

Neither of them had any reason to know that their efforts to keep themselves off the record weren't as successful as they wanted. This was because just twenty or so minutes after they signed their marriage certificate, a dotted line appeared between Lucianne – otherwise known as Lucy Preston – and Wyatt Logan, in the family tree record of Rittyn House inside every copy of _A Complete History of the Most Noble Elven Houses_. Wyatt Logan's name had not existed anywhere in the record before. The dotted line was a further indication that he was not one of the acceptable candidates for marrying into this house. Even so, Lucianne's name hadn't been erased from the record for pursuing this unauthorized marriage. This was extremely unusual in the history of Rittyn House.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Season 2 is coming sometime this year, yay!
> 
> I meant to get this posted last month, but the holidays kind of got in the way. Also, sadly I couldn't find a great picture of a ring made from California Gold Rush gold, but that just means we can all use our imaginations, right? :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much just fluff. Ahem.

~~

As the spring months passed, Wyatt and Lucy continued to make their house into more of a home. Lucy asked Wyatt to help her put together a bookcase, and then worked at it until she'd put together a few more on her own, to hold all the books she was accumulating on magic, history, and the Wild Lands. Wyatt kept making improvements around the house, in between his own research efforts and, of course, daily flights for both exercise and sheer pleasure. (Lucy – his _wife_ – joined him on those flights sometimes.)

At their twenty week appointment, the couple were thrilled to learn for sure from the latest ultrasound that their baby was a tiny, healthy girl. A girl: now they knew. After the reveal, Wyatt found himself daydreaming more and more about a little girl running around the house, with Lucy's smile and her brilliance. He liked that idea – a lot. He was also getting more used to the fact that every ultrasound for a while now had showed what had to be wing buds on their daughter's back. Lucy had been startled by that, too, the first time they were visible, but now they pretty much just thought of it as another feature they could see even in the blurry images available to them.

True to what the ex-mages had told them back at the beginning of their time in the Wild Lands, Lucy's health and comfort levels stayed pretty good, even as she progressed into the middle of the second trimester. Sure, she grumbled a little at the need to modify her wardrobe as she got bigger, and she did have trouble sleeping sometimes, but Wyatt thought she was doing well for the most part. And it might have been a cliché, but to him at least, her glow was enough to rival his own.

Their regular updates across the Boundary continued: the two of them would write longhand anything they thought Rufus, Jiya, and Agent Christopher (and very occasionally Flynn) needed to know on a piece of paper, seal it up in an envelope, and then Lucy would sent it off via magic. Then Rufus or one of their other friends would write a response on the back of the paper and seal it back up, thereby alerting Lucy (somehow – Wyatt wasn't clear on the details of how the spell worked) that it was ready for her to take back. It also worked the other way around; Rufus could and did send reports about each Lifeboat trip he went on. That allowed them to keep track of dates and locations, in the hope that they might discover some pattern eventually. It wasn't an extremely efficient system, but it seemed to be working all right.

As Wyatt had theorized she might before they left, from what Rufus reported it sounded like Emma had drastically reduced the number of trips she was taking into the past. There was no way to be sure that this was as a result of how long Lucy (and Wyatt) had been gone, but it seemed plausible. Agent Christopher did report that there were increased signs of Rittenhouse looking for the two of them. She didn't elaborate on what she meant by that, though, only assuring them that Rittenhouse wasn't making any progress in finding them, and that everything was going fine on her end. There hadn't been any further signs of the big event Mason had accidentally seen being planned, either.

Everything continued pretty much in that vein until Lucy reached her twenty-sixth week – the beginning of her third trimester. That was when the two of them started to catch glimpses of Serah (with Annas once) almost every time they went out to buy groceries or run errands in the nearest town. These were never more than glimpses, at least, but they were still the opposite of welcome. It couldn't be more obvious that the ex-mages were trying to discreetly check up on them, and of course check on the health of their baby. The only errand that never involved these sightings was doctor appointments; neither Serah nor Annas ever showed up anywhere near Dr. Zella's office. That was barely a relief, though. It only made Wyatt more sure that he and Lucy were being watched by the old couple, since they seemed to know their schedule.

“Okay, that is enough,” hissed Lucy, after the fourth time they had seen Serah for just a few seconds. This time had been across the street, outside a nice little cafe where they had just had lunch together. “We cannot keep letting these people insert themselves into our life!” It would have been intrusive enough without the knowledge that the ex-mage viewed them as valuable specimens who belonged to her in some way. For her sake, it was good that Serah had vanished as quickly as she usually did, since it would have looked bad for Wyatt to march his way over and shove an old lady to the ground.

“I agree,” said Wyatt emphatically. Then he sighed. “But short of tracking them down or, I don't know, laying some sort of trap for them, which would mean we give them more face-to-face time with us, I'm not sure how we're going to stop them without making a huge scene. Unless--” He glared in the direction Serah had gone. Even mentioning the other option he could see made him even angrier. “Unless we just move, and try to hide our tracks.”

“No!” Lucy shouted. Then she cringed a little, glancing around before repeating in a lower voice, “No. We're not letting them chase us out of our home. We know they won't reveal our secrets to anyone else, at least, so we're still safe there from Rittenhouse.” She sighed, and rested her hands on her belly. “I like that house. I-- I want to stay there at least until the baby is born.”

“Don't worry,” he said, stepping closer so he could cover her hands with his. “I'm not planning on running.” Then he blinked. It felt like... “Wait. Was that--?”

Lucy smiled, her eyes wide. “Yes, it was. That was her!” She gasped a little bit. “There! Feel right there.”

He moved his hand where she showed him, and gasped in turn. Their daughter was moving under his hand. He'd felt a little bit of activity from her before, but this was much more dramatic. “Wow,” he breathed.

She nodded. The wonder and happiness on her face, added to his own continuing amazement at being able to feel his daughter under his hand, made tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Wyatt swallowed and cleared his throat. He didn't think he would ever get tired of this.

They stayed like that until their little girl decided she was done for the moment. Then they got into the truck. Neither of them spoke for most of the ride. They were each (Wyatt guessed) trying to come up with a good solution to this newest problem. At least the mages hadn't trespassed on their property again, Wyatt thought with a sigh. That was something.

As they drove up in front of their house, Lucy groaned a little as she pulled herself up to get out of the car. Once they were both out, she said, “We need to do something about Serah and Annas today, Wyatt! We can't put this off any more.”

“You know I feel the same,” he told her. “Unfortunately, I don't have any ideas yet – other than setting some kind of trap and confronting them, like I said. But...” He trailed off. She wouldn't be happy with him if he admitted that his main objection to that idea was putting _her_ in harm's way, since he knew she would refuse to let him be the only one at risk.

He got the feeling, judging by the suspicious glare she gave him, that she already had guessed how he would have finished that sentence. But as they walked up the front steps into their house, she just said, “Maybe we can just send them a warning they can't ignore. Using magic, so we don't even have to talk to them directly.”

“That sounds good as far as it goes. Hopefully they'll listen.” Wyatt shut the door behind them. “This would be your wheelhouse, of course, so I'll follow your lead.”

She nodded. “I'll start researching.”

Unfortunately, it seemed like Lucy's idea was easier said than done. She spent the rest of the day with her nose stuck in various magic books, getting more and more frustrated as the time passed. “This shouldn't be that complicated,” she groused over dinner, pushing her food around on her plate. “It's not like I'm trying to do something totally out there. I just want to send a warning … and I can't use the same method we use to communicate with Rufus because I don't know where these guys live.”

Wyatt took a bite from his own plate. “Well, I mean – how hard would it be to adapt that kind of spell? Is that possible?” he asked after he swallowed. “We already know you can locate people with your magic, so maybe that could be what you do first.” Then he shrugged. “Take all of that with a grain of salt, though, since I don't know what I'm talking about.”

But Lucy's eyes had brightened. “Maybe you don't have a lot of knowledge about magic, but it's a good idea,” she said. “I'll give it a try after we eat.”

“Happy to help – if it even ends up being helpful,” he replied.

They were both glad when Lucy discovered it wouldn't be too complicated to modify her locator spell, attaching the warning they wanted to deliver once they figured out what they wanted to say. The next step was the two of them working on the content of the message together.

“We want to make it clear that we've noticed them watching, and we're not okay with it,” Lucy said, as they sat on the couch together.

“Yeah,” said Wyatt. He clenched his fists, bringing to mind how it felt every time they felt the mages' eyes on them. “They may think they're keeping us safe, but we feel it as a threat.”

“What they _think_ barely matters here,” Lucy snapped. He knew her anger wasn't really directed at him. “What matters is, if they don't back the hell off, we'll make them.”

“Yes, ma'am.” She raised an eyebrow at him, but also gave him a faint smile as he went on, “Anything else we need to include?”

She didn't think so. “Succinct is probably better, right?”

“Probably. In my experience, shorter threats are better.”

“Um, do I want to know what kind of experience you're talking about?” Lucy asked. Then she shook her head. “Never mind. I'm guessing not.”

Once they had the specific wording worked out (Lucy having written down several drafts first, because of course she did, because she was Lucy), she took a breath. “All right,” she said. “I'm going to give this a try.”

“Should I back up?” Wyatt asked, grinning at her when she glared at him.

But of course, when Lucy did it, nothing dramatic (or explosive) happened. A few seconds after she shut her eyes and stretched out one hand, she opened them again. “It's done. I think. I'm pretty sure.”

He felt something in him relax, despite her disclaimers. “Good. And if they bother us again … we're going to figure out the most effective and safest way to confront them in person.”

“You're damn right.”

~~  
About a week after the warning had been delivered, Lucy was sitting on the couch, one of her pregnancy books resting on her belly. She had read past the section on the twenty-seventh week all the way to the section about giving birth, and it had raised some issues for her. In fact, she was so deep in thought about one issue in particular that she didn't hear her husband come in until he was right behind her. 

“Hey. You finish the book?”

Lucy looked up at him and smiled. Wyatt was always happy and relaxed after his daily flight time, and today was no different. It always made her happy, too, to see him so content. “Yeah,” she told him. “It's, uh, given me a lot to think about.”

“Oh?” Wyatt turned and walked toward their bedroom, probably to start getting ready to shower. “Like what?”

“Lots of things surrounding the whole issue of me giving birth to this baby.” Lucy waited for him to come back into the room. He had stripped off his shirt and was holding a towel, and Lucy wasn't ashamed to admit that she spent a few extra seconds looking at him right then.

“Lucy. What things?” he prompted, even as he smirked at her gaze.

She brought her mind back to what she'd been pondering. “Well,” she said, “one major question is where I'll be when I have the baby.”

He looked puzzled. “What do you mean? I thought we'd already picked Dr. Zella's clinic.”

“We had,” she said. “It's just … now I'm thinking about whether we should do a home birth, instead.”

The mixture of shock, disbelief, and panic on his face after that was almost funny. “You-- what?” he said, once several seconds of silence had passed. “Home? Like, not at the hospital or clinic at all?”

“That's what it means, yes,” she said calmly.

He swallowed and said, “Okay. Uh. Why do you want to do this?”

“Mostly, it's because I'm still concerned about staying under the radar,” she said, looking down at the book. The couple on the cover seemed so carefree. But then, they weren't in hiding from a secret conspiracy bent on using them as part of their goal of manipulating world history to suit their own ends. “I just don't know how we can really be sure we'll be able to control the news of a Brightstar being born, if we go to the clinic. I mean, she'll have wings, and feathers...”

At that, Wyatt gave a slow nod and came closer. “All right. I get that.”

“And it's not like I'll be in much of a state to try to put a concealment spell on her,” Lucy went on. She stroked a hand over where their daughter was growing. “Besides, even if I'm not too exhausted, I-- I want to _look_ at her, the way she'll really look.” The thought of having her here, for real, was still enough to thrill and terrify her.

“Well, I can't argue with that.” Wyatt's voice was full of emotion. He was close enough now to reach out and take her hand. Then he cleared his throat and said, “I want to keep talking about this, but I'm going to shower first, if that's okay.”

“I'll be here when you get out,” she said, squeezing his fingers before releasing his hand. “Though I might have fallen asleep by then.”

He chuckled. “Who, you? Never.”

She rolled her eyes fondly as he went back down the hall. Just because she'd been taking naps with increasing frequency as the weeks went on didn't mean he needed to tease her about it as often as he did.

As she'd predicted, Lucy had dropped off into a doze by the time Wyatt came back into the room. She woke up to his hand on her shoulder. “Okay, sleepyhead,” he said, sitting down next to her, “if you're coherent enough, let's talk some more about how to keep our kid safe when she gets here. And you.”

Lucy yawned and pulled herself up so she was sitting up straight (which was harder than it used to be). “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I'm awake.”

“Good.” Wyatt took a breath. “So, uh, you've told me why you want to have the baby at home. You have some good reasons – really good ones. Can I tell you why the whole idea makes me nervous?”

“Go ahead.” She had some guesses, but she still very much wanted to have this conversation with him. Needed to, in fact.

“I don't know anything about delivering a baby, Lucy,” he said, exhaling in a rush and leaning his head on his hands. “I have no experience to offer – none. I mean, sure, I've been reading a lot about it lately, but that's not the same thing as really knowing anything. And I know-- I know Serah said deliveries are supposed to be pretty easy for mothers of Brightstars, but I just keep thinking, what if something goes wrong? What if I can't help?”

Her heart ached at the raw emotion in his words. She leaned closer so she could lay her hand on his shoulder, just above his wing. Even aside from his worry, though, he had a point. “Wyatt, I don't think anything's going to go wrong.” Before he could protest, she went on, “But I know we can't be sure of that, and you're right that neither of us have experience to know what to do if there were some kind of problem. So maybe we can ask Dr. Zella to be on standby, and she can be here after I go into labor.”

She could see and feel his tension fade. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Then I think I can get behind this home birth thing.”

“Good. So we'll talk to her about it at my next appointment, learn everything that would be involved, and try to set up some way of alerting her,” Lucy assured him.

“Yeah.” Wyatt leaned in and kissed the top of her head. “That sounds good.”

They sat together for long enough that Lucy started to drift off again. But she made herself wake back up, yawning as she said, “So that just leaves one more crucial decision to make.”

She felt him tense just slightly. “And what might that be?”

“We still haven't come to a final decision on her name.”

“Ah,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

Lucy groaned and tried to sit up as well, with limited success. “We might have to wait a little while for me to be able to stand, if we're going to go get the baby names book and the lists we were looking at earlier,” she said.

Chuckling again, Wyatt stood up. “You stay there,” he said. “I'll go get them. Save us some time.”

Her feigned irritation didn't fool him for an instant, she knew. And he did bring back the required things quickly. “Okay. So. Where were we?”

“I think we had it narrowed down to three possibilities for you, and four for me,” said Lucy as she took her list from him.

Wyatt confirmed his three choices: Marie, Olivia, and Elizabeth. Lucy's remaining choices (after her own ruthless process of elimination) were Arianna, Katherine, Naomi, and Michelle. She had considered some form of “Amy” or “Amelia”, but had discarded that idea almost as quickly as it had crossed her mind. There was no way she was naming her daughter after the woman who was her aunt, when her aunt still didn't even exist to know about this new niece. And Lucy refused to give the name _in memory_ of Amy, either. Amy wasn't dead.

“So, why those three?” she asked Wyatt, nodding toward the piece of paper in his hand. “What do you like about them?”

“Well, Marie was my grandmother's name – my mom's mom,” he said. “I don't remember her very much, since she died when I was in kindergarten, but my grandpa loved her.” He shrugged. “And I like the name, anyway. Other than that … I guess I just kind of like the classics.”

“We have that in common,” Lucy said with a smile, which he answered with one of his own. “Marie is nice.”

“What about your choices?”

Lucy looked down at her list. “Well, funnily enough, Katherine was my dad's mom – the man I remember as my dad, that is. I never knew her at all, but there are a lot of powerful, influential women in history with that name, too. Arianna is my maternal grandmother.” At that, Lucy frowned. “But maybe I should cross that off, since she's probably Rittenhouse. The others are just some other favorite names.”

Wyatt seemed to mull this over. “All right,” he said. “How about we narrow it down to Marie and Katherine as either first or middle names?”

She repeated the names to herself as she stroked a hand over her belly. Then she nodded. “Yeah. I like that idea. So, Marie Katherine Logan, or Katherine Marie Logan?”

She wasn't expecting a look of surprise to cross his face at that. “Logan?” he said, setting down the baby names book and his list. “We haven't talked about that part. You don't want her to have your last name?”

Lucy sighed. “If you'd asked me just two years ago whether I wanted my theoretical daughter to take my last name, I probably-- no, definitely would have said yes,” she told him. Her hands were twisted together in her lap as she went on, “But now … I want her to have as few connections to Rittenhouse as possible. She's already starting out at a disadvantage there.”

At that, Wyatt reached out and took both of her hands in his. “Just as long as you remember that the Logan family name isn't exactly free of bad associations, either.” Before she could reply to that, he went on, “And also that when _I_ think of the name 'Preston', I think of a certain brilliant, loving, courageous, independent historian who's made a name for herself.”

She could feel herself tearing up, and so she pulled one hand away just to wipe under her eyes. “You know I cry even more easily these days,” she reminded him with a watery laugh.

He just smiled and passed the tissue box. Then, once she had recovered her composure, he said, “So, anyway, I like Katherine Marie. I think it sounds good in that order.”

“Agreed,” said Lucy. She smiled and put a hand on her belly again. “Katherine Marie. That's you in there.”

Their little girl elected not to move around in response to this pronouncement. However, when Wyatt scooted closer and bent down to tell her, “We'll call you Katie for short. How's that?”, she reacted enough to her father's voice that both her parents could feel it.

“She knows you already,” said Lucy – and then it was Wyatt's turn to get choked up.

~  
When she reached forty weeks, Lucy was definitely impatient for their little girl to arrive already. That was due to a combination of anticipation at the idea of finally seeing and holding her, and also the desire to reach the end of being this huge and awkward (she'd already been plenty awkward before adding a pregnancy belly to the mix). It was a chore to get up and sit down, to put on or take off shoes, and even to put on pants. And although her sleep wasn't interrupted by pain or discomfort as much as she'd heard was common for women who were at full term, she still had to get up multiple times every night to use the bathroom. Which wasn't fun.

But she and Wyatt were still doing fine overall. They were keeping as busy as they could in their situation. For instance, yesterday Rufus had sent a casefile of sorts about Emma's latest trip to the past. The Mothership had only been in Springfield, Illinois on October fourth, 1854 for an hour – not long enough for the Lifeboat to do more than follow Emma and then come back once Rufus and Flynn had learned she'd already left. So, Agent Christopher had acted on the (somewhat questionable) assumption that Lucy's extensive knowledge of the significance of a certain Mr. Abraham Lincoln's speech on that day wouldn't have been changed by whatever Emma had done. She had asked Lucy to write down everything that she could think of that Rittenhouse might have had reason to change.

They had done similar work before – Lucy describing locations and events the Mothership had gone to in as much detail as she could, and she and Wyatt adding the destination to their running list so they could try to determine an overarching Rittenhouse strategy. But this was the first time a trip of Emma's had been of such short duration. It worried Lucy. She could tell it worried Wyatt, too – and based on the letter, the rest of the Time Team, as well.

Lucy opened another biography of Lincoln (she'd brought a few with her when they came here) and flipped to the relevant section. Scanning the chapter title and information, she didn't come across anything that stood out as different to her. “It seems fine here, too,” she said. “Nothing has changed that I can see.”

Wyatt, who had added “Lincoln's October 4 1854 Speech” to their board of Rittenhouse's activities and was now standing with his hands on his hips as he stared at it, nodded. “No changes. That's got to be a good thing, right?”

“Yeah.” Lucy bit her lip and leaned back. Sitting hunched over the kitchen table was really not comfortable. “I mean, I don't know why it wouldn't be, but on the other hand...”

“It means we still don't know why Emma was there,” he finished, looking at her over his shoulder.

“Exactly,” Lucy sighed. She had just bent over again to refer to another passage in the book when her abdomen twinged. Wincing, she sat back and rubbed that spot. Maybe her daughter was objecting to her mother compressing her space like that.

Some minutes later, Lucy felt another pain of a different kind – and when it passed, she sat up. “Wyatt.” Thinking back, she'd been having these particular pains regularly for a while now, and it seemed an awful lot like they were getting stronger.

“What?” He turned around quickly, cued by the urgency of her tone. “Did you find something?”

“No, but...” She trailed off, sticking a bookmark in the book and closing it. She didn't need to panic. They had made plans for this day. “I'm pretty sure I'm in labor.”

“What?!” Wyatt hurried over to her. “Are you-- Should we contact Dr. Zella?”

Lucy accepted his hand to help her stand up. “Working on it,” she said. She had already activated her end of the spell she'd set up for this moment. It was kind of like a bell pull – the way gentlemen and ladies used to let their servants know they needed them – that Lucy had just pulled on. Unlike those old systems, though, Dr. Zella could (with her own small amount of magical ability) signal from her end as well, to let Lucy know she was on the way. And a second later, Lucy felt that little tug. “She's coming. The doctor, that is.”

Wyatt gave a brief smile at her clarification. “So is our kid, but I sure hope she waits for the doctor.”

“Me, too.”

Between the two of them, they got Lucy to the bedroom, where she sat in the rocking chair. Meanwhile, Wyatt moved quickly and efficiently to strip the bed, replacing the bottom sheet with the clean one they had ready, and then setting up the rest of the padding and plastic sheets they were going to need. She was going to need. For delivering their baby. Lucy swallowed and reminded herself to keep breathing.

“What else?” Wyatt muttered once he'd finished this task, looking around the room. He'd also cleared the area around the bed so all of it was easily accessible.

“You can start getting ready to boil plenty of water,” said Lucy from her chair. Part of her felt bad for just sitting here while he did all the work – but then again, she was in the process of a particular kind of work that he wouldn't be able to help with. And he'd told her already that he wanted to do as much as possible. “But I don't think you should start actually boiling it yet, since I'm pretty sure I'm still in the beginning stages.” The fact that the contractions weren't coming very close together yet was a good indication of that.

“Okay. And I'll put away our research from earlier, too.” He moved toward the bedroom door, then stopped and turned to look at her. Worry was clear in his eyes.

“Go,” said Lucy with a fond smile. “I'll be fine in here for a few minutes – and I'll call if I need you.”

He gave a sheepish smile in return, and went.

~~  
Wyatt had never felt as simultaneously proud of Lucy and helpless to do anything really useful for her as he did during her labor. They had talked about this whole plan ahead of time, yes, and there wasn't anything that could move him away from her side now that this day was here – but he still wished he could really help her.

Dr. Zella had confirmed, some number of hours ago (it had to be hours by now, didn't it?), that Lucy was in the “active labor” stage. That meant she was actively working to push, to bring their daughter into the world. The doctor had also said Lucy was doing well. She was making steady progress. But it seemed endless to Wyatt, and he couldn't imagine how exhausted his wife must be by now.

By this point, she was holding his hand so hard it hurt, but Wyatt hardly begrudged her that. “You're doing great, sweetheart,” he told her again, as she tried to breathe through another contraction. “You're doing so great. Just keep breathing.”

She hadn't replied to his encouragement or looked at him in a while. Wyatt didn't let that bother him much, though. It was obvious she needed all her focus, all her energy to be directed toward the work she was doing.

After what seemed like a crazy long time, Dr. Zella looked up from her position at the foot of the bed. “All right, Lily,” she said, “I can see her! You're almost there. Keep doing what you're doing.”

Wyatt thought Lucy might have nodded. He shook off his own tiredness (what the hell did he have to be tired for?). Their daughter was almost here.

And then Lucy screamed during the next push, which was a new thing. Not like she had been silent before, but this was obviously causing her more pain. Wyatt winced, hating his helplessness here. This wasn't something that his Brightstar blood could help with – at least not unless something went very wrong, which he obviously didn't want to happen. So he just had to stay here, holding her hand while she screamed again.

Then, just as Wyatt was starting to wonder whether something had gone wrong – did she have to be in this much pain for this long? - there was another sound after Lucy's latest scream. A very different cry. He gasped, just as Dr. Zella said, “And here she is!”

“How … how is she?” Lucy panted, struggling to try to sit up. Wyatt shifted his grip so he could support her better. It was not at all odd to think her abdominal muscles might not want to cooperate after what she'd just been through.

“She's just fine,” said Dr. Zella, and Wyatt could hear the smile in her voice though he couldn't see her all that well from his angle. “Let me just cut the cord and clean her off a little, and then I'll hand her right to her mom and dad. You did wonderfully, Lily.”

And then the doctor stood up, and Wyatt got his first glimpse of their little girl, still crying, and all tiny and red. She was here. He swallowed hard. Clearing his throat as he helped Lucy pull herself more upright against the headboard, he told her, “Yes, you did.” His voice sounded choked to his own ears. “You're amazing.” Overwhelmed with emotion, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Lucy sighed and shut her eyes for a moment. ““She needs … she needs to be extra warm, remember?” she mumbled then, as Wyatt watched the doctor take care of little Katherine Marie.

“I remember,” he assured her. Dr. Zella looked up at him briefly, smiling. “So does Dr. Zella. Katie's getting wrapped up in a nice warm blanket right now.”

“Good,” said Lucy. She blinked slowly. Wyatt didn't think he'd ever seen her this tired, but there was still a light in her eyes.

Their daughter's cries had quieted to little whimpers by now. When the doctor set the bundle that was Katie in her mother's arms, Wyatt had to fight back a full-blown sob at the look on Lucy's face … and the wonder of seeing Katie's face for himself. Their newborn girl was so tiny, and she was a little bit squished-looking – and she was also the most amazing thing Wyatt had ever seen. His heart was full to bursting, and he hadn't even held her yet.

“Hi, there,” Lucy whispered, running a finger over their little girl's face. “It's so nice to meet you.”

Wyatt sat down on the bed next to his family. He sniffed and wiped away a tear from under his eye. “Yeah.” He tried to search for other words, but there weren't any. Instead, he just reached out his own hand and touched his daughter's face for the first time.

A few minutes later, Dr. Zella cleared her throat and said, “I hate to interrupt, but I do want to remind you both that skin-to-skin contact between a newborn and the mother is very important.” She hesitated. “I, um, I know you told me that Brightstar babies are more vulnerable to the cold, but if there's a way we can still...”

“I'll keep her warm,” said Lucy right away. “It shouldn't be a hard spell to manage.”

She sounded totally confident, so Wyatt didn't object that she must be too tired to do magic by now. He didn't want to do anything to impede Lucy bonding with their kid.

And in fact, when they took off the blanket and laid Katie on her mother's chest, she had only just started to look upset by the change when Lucy laid her hand over the little girl's tiny folded wings. Then she gave a tiny sigh and settled, closing her eyes.

Still hardly able to speak, Wyatt stroked Katie's head and then rested his hand on top of Lucy's. His hand easily covered his daughter's entire back. She was so small.

To his faint surprise, Wyatt realized a few seconds later that he must be getting some of the results of Lucy's warming spell. He hadn't been cold to begin with (their bedroom was usually a comfortable temperature, after all), but now he could feel warmth spreading up his arm from where his hand was touching his wife's. It wasn't overwhelming or unpleasant; it was more like he was being slowly wrapped up in his own soft, thick blanket. He cleared his throat. “Not that I really mind,” he said quietly, “but Lucy, I think your spell might have a larger range than you were aiming for.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“I'm much warmer now,” he said, not moving his hand. Then he smiled. “So unless you were worried about my tolerance for cold in here, too...”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Um, sorry. No, I wasn't worried. I just...”

“Hey, I said I didn't really mind.” Then he yawned. “Although it is making me kind of sleepy, and I'd rather stay awake for this.” He stroked his sleeping daughter again, and Lucy's hand in the process.

“Sorry,” Lucy repeated. A few seconds later, the warmth faded most of the way.

Dr. Zella spoke up then. “Well. I've never seen it before, but I have read that mages may actually experience a surge in the strength of their magic in the hours after giving birth.” She shook her head, looking amazed. “Supposedly it's so that they can protect their families if they need to. So I'm guessing that's what's happening here, Lily.”

“Wow.” Lucy blinked. “Um, how long is this going to last? I don't want to accidentally – I don't know, knock down a wall or something.”

“I don't know for sure, unfortunately,” said the doctor. “I know it's temporary, but I think I remember reading it can last anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours.”

Lucy's eyes widened further. “Oh. Okay. I guess I'll … try to keep the magic to a minimum then. Just in case.”

“Not that you'd ever hurt us,” said Wyatt. “But yeah, maybe do your best not to accidentally create a garden inside our refrigerator or whatever.”

She snorted, covering up a wince at the motion. “I'll try.”

The rest of the day went by in an odd kind of blur. Looking back, Wyatt knew the doctor had stayed for a while longer. He and Lucy had talked to her a number of times, and she'd left some written instructions for them. He remembered being there as she had helped Lucy the first time Katie needed to nurse, which had been good. But that was one moment that stood out, among lots of other moments that he knew had to have happened but that he only vaguely recalled.

And then finally, he was seeing Dr. Zella out. “Please don't hesitate, if either you or your wife need anything,” she told him, as he accompanied her to the front door. Lucy and Katie were dozing in the rocking chair in their bedroom, after Wyatt had changed the sheets on the bed. “Feel free to contact me.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” he said, smiling as he handed her one of the cases of supplies she'd brought. “We really appreciate it.”

As the woman was about to step out of the door, she stopped and turned back. “Oh, and … Wyatt?”

He froze. Why was she calling him his real name? Had they-- Damn it, they must have forgotten to be careful about using their aliases, what with the intensity of emotion and focus they'd had during Lucy's labor. And now he had to make a quick decision. Meeting Dr. Zella's eyes and hoping he wasn't wrong about this, he said, “Yeah?”

She nodded a little, though her expression was hard to read. “You and Lucy can be sure I'll keep your secret,” she said. “Even if I didn't strongly believe in the importance of doctor-patient confidentiality, you've already made a good case for why you'd want to stay under the radar.”

Wyatt ducked his head. “Thank you for understanding,” he said. “And I'm sorry we put you in this situation.”

“No apology necessary,” said the doctor, waving her hand. “Besides, I know your Lucy is a powerful enough mage that she could modify my memory of today if she decided it was best. I probably wouldn't even know it if she did.” She sounded surprisingly accepting of that possibility.

“Well, I don't think that's going to be her plan,” said Wyatt. “We're going to be pretty busy for a while, anyway.”

She smiled. “That's true. Either way, though, congratulations to you both. Katie is a beautiful, healthy little baby.”

He returned the smile, already eager to get back to his family. “Thank you.”

~~  
It was only a few days after the birth of a new member of Rittyn House's line that the new name appeared in the book. Lucianne now had a child: a girl she had named Katherine. (She hadn't followed tradition and given her an elvish name, as well.) This notification served as the final straw for the House's leaders. There was no way Lucianne's rebellion could be allowed to continue – not when so much was at stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if my depiction of a home birth is ridiculous. I kept it light on details on purpose, since basically all I know I learned from _Call the Midwife_.
> 
> Also, my description of Lucy's thought process about her daughter's name is not meant to reflect poorly on any other author who has decided differently about Amy.


	15. Chapter 15

~~  
About a month after Katie was born, the family was adjusting well to their life together. Sure, she and Wyatt were tired all the time, Lucy thought as they got into bed one evening, but that was hardly surprising. Katie was healthy and happy, and growing every day. And Lucy herself had pretty much recovered from the physical trauma of giving birth. (“Easier” Brightstar delivery or no, it was taking some time – though again, nothing unexpected.)

“Who's got first shift tonight?” Wyatt asked, yawning and turning out the light.

“I think it's you,” she answered, echoing his yawn. “We've got some bottles ready, right?”

He mumbled something that sounded like a yes. Lucy made sure Katie's warming spell was active before she shut her eyes. Their little girl's crib was just a few yards away, but she didn't like a lot of thick blankets or multiple layers of clothing (which made sense, for a Brightstar), so the warming spell was a necessity. Of course, it wasn't all that uncommon for her to end up in bed snuggling with her parents, either. She'd made that preference clear already. Stubborn, Wyatt liked to say – like her mother.

They were developing this routine, and it was fine. It was going well. Except … there were some moments when Lucy caught herself wishing she could have at least a change of scenery. Just a brief one, that was more than taking a quick walk outside with Katie. (At least the weather was warming up, so she didn't feel like it was somehow irresponsible to expose her daughter to the cooler air on these occasions.) And sometimes she thought Wyatt might be having similar feelings.

So a few days later, during a lunch of thrown-together leftovers (clearly they needed to go to the grocery store again), Lucy brought it up. “What would you think about us taking another trip?” she asked, as she set a sleepy Katie in her swing. “I mean, just a short one – just to get us out of the house.”

Wyatt blinked and yawned, scratching the side of his face. He needed a haircut, Lucy thought; his hair was getting kind of shaggy. Then again, hers was perpetually a mess these days. “Huh,” he said. “I guess … that sounds kind of nice.”

“Of course, I don't have any ideas where we might go, but – it's a thought.” She smiled at Katie as the little girl's eyes drooped and closed.

“No, it's a good one,” he assured her. “I think we're both at risk of going a little stir-crazy if we don't change things up.” Then he sat up. “Hey, what if we take Estella up on her invitation and go visit the Brightstar reserve?”

Lucy went back to her seat and took a bite of her sandwich. Once she'd swallowed, she said, “That might be perfect, actually. We told her we were interested in coming – and plus, we know it'd be safe.”

“Exactly,” Wyatt agreed. He flashed a quick smile. “And it would have the added benefit of giving you a break from having to do concealment spells for Katie and me, for however long we're there.”

“True.” She returned the smile. “So when should we go?”

After more discussion, they settled on the next day, to give them enough time to get ready. They weren't planning a long trip, but anything less than one full day from now seemed like too little time.

“And you'll remember the directions Estella gave, to find the reserve?” Lucy asked that evening, after they got back from a shopping trip. In her arms, Katie was fussy in a way that suggested she was about to melt down completely if she didn't nurse soon.

Wyatt took the shopping bag that was hanging off a few of her fingers. “Yep, I'm pretty sure,” he told her. He bent down and kissed Katie's wispy brown hair as she whimpered. “Now, go feed this kid. I'll put the stuff away.”

She gave him a grateful smile and carried Katie into the living room. Thankfully, she settled down as soon as she started to nurse – as she almost always did.

The next morning, the three of them started off after breakfast. They had decided they would drive a significant portion of the way there, then leave the truck somewhere easy for them to find but unobtrusive. They would have to go the rest of the way on foot. Katie was drowsy but happy as they began the trip, which was not a bad mood in which to get started.

Lucy kept alert as they traveled, relying on a simple detection spell she'd laid over all of them to check if they were being watched. It felt a little paranoid. On the other hand, it was reassuring when nothing triggered the spell during the almost entire day it took to get where Wyatt decided they could leave the truck.

“So, here's where we might have a minor problem,” Wyatt said, as they all got out of the car. They were at the edge of a sparse forest, which (Wyatt and Lucy had been assured) formed the border around the huge field that contained the Brightstar reserve. “I don't know how long this forest goes, and so I can't vouch for how Katie's going to feel at the end of this leg of the journey.”

“Plus, we don't really know how long it will take to get to the actual reserve after we get through the woods, right?” Lucy guessed, and nodded when he confirmed this. “Well, I guess we just give it a try and see what happens.” In the sling in front of her, Katie gave a happy gurgle, and Lucy smiled. She'd been worried when she first tried out the sling that their little girl would find it too restrictive, but apparently her need to be close to her parents won out over that. “I mean, Katie seems to be liking the trip so far.”

“She does, doesn't she?” He grinned at them both, and reached out a finger for their daughter to grab. “You're going to be an adventurer, aren't you, baby girl?”

Lucy snorted softly. “We can only hope she ends up a little less adventurous than her parents. As in, sticking to only one period in history at least.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Wyatt with a mock sigh. “That's kind of boring, though.”

“Well, if it's boring to stay in your own time period,” Lucy said, nudging his shoulder with hers, “then let me just say that the last year or so of 'boring' has been really nice.”

At that, his expression softened. “Okay, you got me there.”

They walked in silence for a while. The temperature under the trees was nice, and it didn't seem like it was going to be a difficult hike at all. Thinking ahead, though, Lucy had an idea. “I'm going to see if I can tell how far away we are,” she informed Wyatt. “I know I won't be able to actually find the reserve by magic, assuming what Estella said about how it's hidden is true, but maybe I'll be able to sense … something that lets me know I should be sensing something even though I'm not. If that makes any sense.”

He looked at her in obvious amusement. “I think I followed that,” he said. “Mostly.”

“Hush,” she said, smiling even as she shut her eyes and reached out with her magic.

For a long while, she didn't sense anything at all unusual ahead of them. The field was a big one, but it all seemed totally normal. She frowned. This wasn't working.

“See anything yet?” Wyatt asked.

“Not really,” she said. “It just looks like a big field.”

“Well, it's not like we really have to worry about it,” he was saying as she tried again. “We can just keep going until we find something if you'd rather--”

Lucy held up a hand. “Wait.” There was something-- something just the slightest bit weird about what she could sense now. But it was very hard to wrap her mind around. It was so normal, so deceptively normal... That was it.

“I think I found it,” Lucy said, not bothering to hide the feeling of accomplishment. It was obvious that this was not supposed to be detectable. (Which, again, was good. She had no quarrel with keeping the home of most of the world's Brightstars well disguised.) But she had managed to notice the very strong, expertly-created illusion only because the whole image – of a thoroughly normal, pretty much empty stretch of field – had been repeated several times, without being changed. “Yeah, I found it. We have maybe half an hour before we get to the edge, I'd say.”

“Then we better get going,” said Wyatt.

When they had walked for a while, out to about the middle of the field (based on appearances, anyway), Wyatt looked up suddenly and stopped. “Ah. I think we've been spotted.”

Lucy followed his gaze. There were two distant figures – figures with wings, obviously, since they were high enough in the air that they were kind of hard to see. Swallowing back a sudden rush of nervousness that (she told herself) made no real sense, Lucy removed the concealment spell on both Wyatt and Katie. If Katie noticed, she didn't seem to feel a need to respond.

“Hey, that looks like Estella,” Wyatt said a few seconds later, shading his eyes against the late afternoon sun. “And a friend, obviously.”

“Yeah.”

They stayed where they were until the two other Brightstars landed a few yards ahead of them. To Lucy's relief (which again, she knew that made very little sense), both Estella and the guy with her were smiling. “Welcome, Wyatt and Lucy,” said Estella as she folded her wings. She came closer, and her smile widened as she bent down to look more closely at Katie. “It's good to see you again. And who's this little chick?”

“This is Katie,” said Lucy with an answering smile, aware that Wyatt had come up behind her. “She's just a little over a month old now.”

“Well, she's lovely,” Estella said.

“Thank you,” Lucy said. It was nice, to be able to interact with new friends and get the chance to show Katie off a little. They'd interacted with people at the store or at the doctor of course, but that wasn't the same thing. And there was no reason for her to be nervous around these people. Right? Why was she even feeling that way at all?

“We think so, too,” Wyatt put in, distracting her from that line of thought.

The man who had come with Estella cleared his throat then, and she looked up. “Oh, yes. Lucy, Wyatt, this is Aaron. Aaron, this is Lucy and Wyatt, and their daughter.”

Aaron was a tall, dark-skinned guy whose easy smile helped Lucy start letting go of her lingering anxiety. “Glad to meet you,” he said, shaking hands with them both. “And glad to be one of the first to welcome you to the reserve.”

“We're glad to be here,” Wyatt said, and Lucy agreed.

“Will you stay long?” Estella asked, as they turned and started to walk together toward the actual reserve. “You're welcome to, for however long you'd like. We have a few empty houses you could stay in. But only if you choose to stay, of course.”

Wondering a bit at this emphasis on their choice, Lucy nonetheless could tell it was a sincere invitation. She looked at Wyatt. “Uh, we haven't-- we didn't actually think that far ahead,” she told the others.

“We don't have a whole lot of supplies with us,” Wyatt began, but was interrupted quickly.

“Oh, well, that doesn't need to be something that stops you,” Estella told them. “You're not the only family of us with a little one, and so I'm sure we would be able to find anything you need.”

She and Wyatt exchanged glances again. He seemed … honestly, she wasn't sure how he was feeling, which made her think he might be trying not to appear overwhelmed. “We might take you up on that,” she settled on saying. Wyatt didn't disagree.

Estella and Aaron were pleased with that response.

As the four adults kept walking for a few more seconds, Lucy suddenly thought of something and flushed. “Um, you guys don't have to walk just because-- I mean, I'm okay down here on the ground with Katie.”

“Oh, don't be silly,” said Estella, waving a hand. “We're not going to fly off and leave two of our guests on the ground by themselves. A little walking won't kill us, eh, Aaron?”

“It'll be good for us, probably,” the man said with a nod.

The weather was still nice, Lucy granted. That meant the lack of shade also wasn't too much of a factor. While they walked, Estella and Aaron told them some of the history of the reserve. Lucy listened with great interest. Estella had told them where it was and how many Brightstars lived there (only one hundred and fifty-three) last time they'd met, but hadn't gotten into its history much. They had been busy taking care of little Stephanie until she crossed the Boundary, after all.

Not too surprisingly, it wasn't a happy story at first, since it started with the number of Brightstars decreasing rapidly as they were exploited and killed. “There were two mages who saw all this happening, and they decided they had to do something to help us have a way to stay safe,” Estella said. “So they worked together to create a place that would be invisible to anyone who wasn't a Brightstar – well, they could see it, too, of course – and would be safe. The creation of that place allowed our numbers to start growing again.”

“It kept us from dying out, you mean,” Aaron put in.

Two mages. Lucy looked at Wyatt again. Two mages whose life goal was to keep Brightstars safe.

Estella granted that point. “But as it turned out, though the mages hoped all the remaining Brightstars would come live with them on the reserve, there were some who decided they would rather cross the Boundary and live as humans.”

“Like my grandparents,” said Wyatt.

“Yes,” said Estella. “And at least four or five other pairs.”

“Four or five?” The incredulous words slipped out before Lucy could stop them. “I mean … that doesn't seem like very many.” That had to mean the total number of known Brightstars in the world was still pretty small.

But neither of their companions seemed offended. “I know,” said Aaron, with a little sigh. “We're still a lot closer to extinction than any of us are comfortable with, even after all these years. Which is why even with what happened later, we can't fault Annas and Serah too much for how much effort they put into their goal. Into us.”

Lucy heard Wyatt's intake of breath. “Huh. So it _was_ them,” he said, in a carefully controlled voice.

“What?” Aaron and Estella stopped walking and stared at them. “You've met Annas and Serah?”

“Yeah,” said Wyatt, stepping closer to Lucy probably without even realizing it, she thought. “They tracked us down with some spell, treated Lucy like she was nothing but a Brightstar incubator once they found out she was pregnant, and generally stuck their noses in our business until we had to tell them more than once to leave us the hell alone.”

It was Aaron and Estella's turn to look at each other. “That sounds like our mages all right,” said Aaron with a sigh. “Have they still been bothering you?”

“Not for months,” said Lucy firmly. Katie squirmed in the sling, and Lucy let her grab one of her fingers.

“Yeah, because Lucy put a stop to it.” Wyatt's voice was proud now, as the group resumed walking. “She came up with a spell to send them a warning, after the first time we told them to leave us alone and they didn't.”

“You came up with it yourself?” Estella's eyes were wide.

Blushing, Lucy shook her head. “I'm sure I wasn't the first person to think of the spell. There just wasn't one like I wanted in any of the books I have with me, so I did some improvising.”

Both of the other Brightstars were clearly impressed. “Well, perhaps so, but that still means you must be a very powerful mage yourself,” said Estella.

“She is,” said Wyatt. And then, as one of the reasons she had been (and still was, to some extent) so anxious crystallized for Lucy, something similar must have occurred to him right then. “Which isn't going to cause a problem for anyone, right? I mean, no one's going to assume she's anything like Serah and Annas just because--”

“No, no,” Aaron assured them. “Especially since you're coming with Wyatt, and you two have a child together, no one's going to prejudge you, Lucy. Although I might suggest you come right out and tell everyone you're a mage when you introduce yourself.”

“Okay. But what did Annas and Serah do to you all, exactly?” Lucy said, as her imagination started supplying all manner of terrible things. “We, um, sort of got distracted before you got to that part.”

The answer to her question was both more and less awful than she'd imagined. From what Estella said, it seemed the two mages had decided that the best way to keep their charges truly safe was to dampen any impulse they might have to leave the reserve in order to fulfill their natural urge to help people and right wrongs. So they had cast a subtle but strong spell that Estella called a “complacency spell”. It did just what it sounded like: kept their charges content enough with the reserve that they almost never left. And then another Brightstar born in the human world had made his way to the reserve for a visit. He hadn't been under the influence of that spell, so the mages had tried to force it onto this unsuspecting visitor in order to keep him with them. This had backfired hugely, since it made the guy seriously ill. Which was not a thing that happened to Brightstars normally, so it aroused suspicion.

“To make a long story short,” continued Estella, “that whole debacle with Don – that was the Brightstar from the human world – led to all of us discovering what had been done to us. We expelled the two mages from the reserve, and got some help from another mage that we trusted to make sure they would have a hard time ever finding it again.”

Maybe that was part of the process by which Annas and Serah had lost their magic, Lucy thought. But she decided against asking for more details, since it was an uncomfortable topic at best. Besides, it was clear enough to her that they deserved it. “That seems fair to me,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Wyatt. “I'm glad they can't hang around and hassle you guys just outside the reserve, too, since based on our experience that's something they'd totally try.”

Aaron snorted. “Oh, definitely.”

A few seconds later, Lucy nearly ran into Estella and Aaron as they stopped. Next to her, Wyatt stopped too. “Whoa.” He was staring straight up – but Lucy had no idea at what.

Thankfully, before she really had time to wonder what the hell was going on, Estella said, “Yeah, we're here.” Then she turned toward them. “Oh – sorry, Lucy. You're probably getting the full effect of the very specialized concealment spell the mages set up. If you hold onto Wyatt's hand, you should be able to see it.”

“Okay.” So apparently sort of holding her daughter wasn't enough in this situation. Raising an eyebrow, she reached out for Wyatt's hand. A second later, she gasped as a sheer, very tall wall seemingly appeared just a few feet in front of them.

“I'll get the door,” said Aaron, going ahead of them and pressing his hand to a spot on the wall. That area didn't look any different from the rest of it, but there must have been some kind of hidden panel or something, because the outline of a door appeared and then it swung inward.

Wyatt, who had kept staring at the wall ever since he first saw it, now turned to look at her fully. “Are you ready?” he said, his voice low. Katie chose that moment to let out a shriek and raise her arms toward her dad. He grinned and used the hand that wasn't holding Lucy's to take both of his daughter's tiny hands in his. “I guess that's a yes from Katie.”

“We like that enthusiasm,” Estella said with a laugh. “Come on in.”

She gestured for them to go ahead. Lucy took a breath and walked forward. The doorway wasn't wide enough for both Wyatt and her to walk through at the same time, but when he nodded for her to go first and let go of her hand right at the doorway, the wall was still visible. Which was good. She wouldn't have wanted to run into it or anything. Whether or not the Brightstar community was going to welcome her with open arms, that wasn't the kind of first impression she hoped to make.

~~  
Wyatt let out another slow, deep breath, trying to let the peace and comfort of his surroundings help him relax. Lucy had fallen asleep some time ago. She was next to and half on top of him in the large hammock that was apparently traditional for Brightstar beds, and their little girl was tucked against his side as well, nestled safely between her parents. Their borrowed treehouse – another Brightstar tradition that made total sense for a race of people with wings – was nice and open and just about perfect. But Wyatt couldn't sleep.

It wasn't too hard to figure out why he might have some trouble settling down, though, Wyatt thought. After all, the end of this day had been taken up with meeting several dozen of his distant relatives – family he hadn't known existed until months ago, and had never seen until today. Everyone had been welcoming and friendly. No one had so much as batted an eye upon meeting Lucy. Most of them had been impressed when they heard about her magical talent, but not suspicious or hostile in the least. (Though it was admittedly a little weird to both him and Lucy that the preferred term among Brightstars for “husband” or “wife” was “mate”.) And naturally, everyone had thought Katie was adorable.

But it still all added up to a pretty overwhelming day. He'd learned so much in even a few hours about his heritage, about the history of his mother's people. He and Lucy had met some other Brightstar families, and asked some of their remaining questions about what it was like to raise a Brightstar kid.

And now he was just supposed to turn his brain off and sleep? He snorted softly and rolled his eyes at himself. At this rate, he was just going to lie here, awake, until Katie woke up for her next feeding. Which was just great.

There was more to it than just all the new information he had to try to take in, though. Part of his sleeplessness was no doubt because now that he'd seen the reserve and met a good portion of its inhabitants, it was really starting to sink in that this was all of them. This was it. As far as anyone knew, if anything terrible were to happen to this reserve, there were _maybe_ four or five other families somewhere in the human world – and Brightstars didn't have lots of kids, so those families were likely small. After all, the reserve itself had only been around for two generations prior to his own, so there hadn't been much time for numbers to increase.

Somehow, meeting so many other Brightstars had both opened up his circle of acquaintance and family far beyond anything he'd imagined after learning what he was … and also made it seem dangerously small and fragile. Not that he'd really needed the added motivation to keep this place a secret. But one thing was for sure: when he and Lucy went back to their Wild Lands home – and sometime in the not-too-distant future when they returned to the human world – nothing would compel him to endanger these people. His people.

He had finally fallen asleep when a sound from Lucy brought him right back to wakefulness. She had pulled away from him just slightly to lie on her back, and her eye mask was partway off. And she was grimacing, making faint distressed sounds.

Katie was still asleep, though in the light of his glow Wyatt could see she was stirring just a little. “Lucy,” he whispered, trying not to disturb Katie any further. “Lucy, wake up.”

But Lucy stayed in the nightmare, if that was in fact what was happening. She was breathing in quick, shallow pants, and her little cries of distress were getting louder. The hammock swayed as she shifted and started to thrash. She still didn't seem to hear him at all.

Just when Wyatt was afraid this was going to turn into a minor disaster, Katie woke up with a loud wail of her own. Lucy pulled off her mask and sat up, scooping Katie into her arms and clutching her in one swift, desperate motion. She glanced around wildly, only stopping when she saw Wyatt next to her.

“You all right?” he asked.

She didn't reply right away. Instead, when their baby started to cry in earnest, she moved carefully to sit on the edge of the hammock (even though this one was made to not tip over, it was still a hammock, after all) and helped a still-fussing Katie start to nurse. “I'll-- I'll tell you about it in a minute,” she said. “I just need to...”

“That's fine,” said Wyatt. He stayed where he was, though he did reach out and touch her back gently.

Once Katie had eaten her fill, Lucy adjusted her shirt, turned around, and passed the sleepy little girl to him. “You want to walk with her for a while?”

“Sure.” Wyatt sat up and cradled Katie against himself. She cooed at him and blinked slowly. She'd grown a lot in the past month, he thought, but she was still so small. The sheer force of his love for this little one still had the ability to leave him breathless.

He stood up and started to walk back and forth, humming something without thinking about it and patting Katie's back until she'd burped. Then he kept going until she was just about asleep. At that point, he sat back down on his side of the hammock. Lucy had been watching them most of this time, he knew. She was still looking at them now, her eyes dark. But she settled back in bed with him and Katie a few seconds later.

Once the hammock had stopped swaying, and once it was obvious that Katie was fully asleep, Lucy spoke. “She had a message for me. My mother.”

The air suddenly seemed frigid. He turned to face her. “She found you-- us? Here?” This was much worse than a bad dream.

“Not exactly.” She took in a breath, and Wyatt noted with a pang how shuddery it was. “I'm pretty sure she only knows we're in the Wild Lands. She doesn't know anything more specific, thank God. But she was-- it's like she was sending this message out on all magical frequencies, for lack of a better comparison. So she could be sure I'd hear, even if I didn't respond.”

Well. It was a relief that Lucy didn't think her mother knew where they were, but that didn't mean this wasn't still disturbing. “What did she say?”

“She said--” Her voice broke, and Lucy looked down at their daughter before biting her lip and trying again. “She said, 'Lucy, I know you're out there. I know you and your Brightstar are married and you've started a family.' She was so _happy_ about that, about Katie.”

It was probably mostly instinctive, the urge Wyatt got right then to pull both his wife and child into his arms and draw his sword. But there was no enemy actually present here. He tried to breathe, and tried to keep his voice at a whisper. “How the hell does she know those things?”

“That's what I've been trying to figure out.” She shook her head once. “I'm telling myself that if she'd found Dr. Zella or someone else who knows, then she would have tracked us down already. But anyway. That wasn't the whole message.”

Great. “All right. Rip off the bandaid, then.”

“She told me that they're going to find us,” Lucy said, after a pause. “And when they do, we should just give in. It'll be better for us, and for Katie. Otherwise, if we keep resisting – 'being stubborn' is what she called it – then Rittyn House is going to decide we're more trouble than we're worth.”

He hated the bleak expression in her eyes, though of course he understood why it was there. “Well, none of that is too surprising, is it?” he said quietly.

She shook her head again. “No, but...” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped them away irritably as she said, “I guess part of me was hoping my mother would never blatantly threaten me and my family. Which is stupid, since I've known she's Rittenhouse for what, a year now?”

“It's not stupid,” he told her, giving in to the impulse to pull her closer. Katie didn't mind the closer proximity at all. “Yeah, you've known that about her for a while now, but you knew her and loved her as your mom – at least in our original timeline – for much longer than that.”

Lucy sighed and nodded against his shoulder. “I guess.”

“But either way...” He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “We don't have to let her scare us. That's what she's trying to do – maybe because she really thinks she knows what's best for you--”

“Oh, she does,” Lucy interjected, fond irritation fading quickly into grief that she struggled to control. Her voice was choked as she went on, “She always has, in any timeline.”

It was only a distance of a few inches, so Wyatt leaned in closer to kiss her forehead. Then he just waited. He'd said what he needed to say. She didn't need him to keep pushing.

Lucy let out another sigh, shutting her eyes for a few seconds. Then she nodded, her face next to his, and said, “Anyway. I do see what you're saying, Wyatt. Let's-- let's try to get some more sleep. Rittenhouse hasn't found us. No matter what my mother decides to broadcast at me, they haven't found us.”

The unspoken “yet” hung over them heavily enough that Wyatt could almost feel it pressing down on him. He closed his eyes. Despite the truth of the reassurances he'd just given Lucy, he wasn't sure there was going to be any more sleep for him tonight.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, season 2 is SO GOOD so far! It just makes me happy every time I think about it or rewatch.
> 
> Anyway, here's my second-to-last chapter. Thanks for reading! Also, the first person to guess who "Don" is (hint: an actual TV character from another currently-airing show) wins fifty internet points.


	16. Chapter 16

~~  
Four Months Later

It was like Lucy was watching it happen in slow motion. First, there was the horror of watching Wyatt be grabbed in midair by some kind of net contraption, fired at him from a good distance away. He didn't quite crash into the ground at full speed, but it was a near thing. The sight filled her with simultaneous rage and fear. She didn't know for sure if he was still conscious, but there was no way in hell she was letting anyone take him.

And then, as she hurried to set Katie down (somehow, the little girl hadn't yet reacted to either of her parents' cries of fear by crying herself) and laid her strongest protective spells over her, Lucy stiffened. She felt the presence of several other powerful mages triggering her wards – and now they were getting closer.

She bit her lip. Katie was as safe as she could be at the moment. Wasn't she? On the other hand, when she went to the window, the four mages weren't coming toward where Wyatt lay wrapped in the net on the ground. They were coming straight for the house. A terrible suspicion started to grow in her mind. She whirled around to where she had set Katie in her playpen. But even as she tried to rush toward her daughter, she found to her horror that she could no longer move. It was like she had been frozen in place. It was magic, strong magic – and although she immediately began fighting against it as hard as she could, she didn't seem to be making any progress.

Seconds later, she could only watch as her mother, her ex-fiance, and a man and a woman she didn't recognize came into the house. Most of them only gave her a glance as they went directly toward Katie, but Noah actively avoided looking in her direction. Her mother, on the other hand, stopped in front of her.

“I'm sorry about this, Lucy,” she said, and her expression was genuinely regretful. “Your decision to run and hide with your Brightstar forced our hand. When we finally tracked you down, well … this was the only way you left open for your father and me to save your life. The others had all but decided your rebellion was grounds for execution. We had to step in.”

Lucy wished she could yell in her mother's face that if she expected Lucy to be grateful, she was more wrong than she had ever been in her life. But her mother wasn't finished.

“So it was either stand aside and let them send an assassin or large enough force to subdue even a mage of your stature, as well as your Wyatt, or try to drag all of you back with us kicking and screaming, and likely cause you harm, or just bring your little one back. This really is the best option, I hope you can see. We all hope leaving you unharmed will encourage better behavior. And your daughter will be well cared-for, of course. As an heir of our bloodline, she'll have nothing but the best. Her parents will always be welcome to join her, too – if you show yourselves worthy of our forgiveness.”

 _Forgiveness?!_ Lucy wanted to scream. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she still couldn't move or speak. What was unforgivable was this, right here. Lucy had still been holding out a tiny shred of hope that someday, she and her mother could be reconciled. This totally extinguished that hope. All she felt toward the woman now, as the other mages worked to remove the protective spells on Katie, was hatred.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” her mom repeated, sighing and looking down at the floor. “I know. It doesn't make sense to you right now, and I can only imagine what you must feel toward me. But since you refused to join us willingly, this is the only way I can protect you, Wyatt, and your child. Some of our House would have also preferred imprisonment and reeducation for you as rebels once you were made to come back to us, but your father and I knew that would certainly kill your Brightstar and destroy any hope of you changing your mind. Plus, this less damaging route will also give us time to make sure our House's other leaders come around to our view.”

Lucy would have scoffed if she could have. There was no doubt that killing Wyatt would have destroyed any chance of a relationship between her and her parents. And of course she would prefer to avoid torture. But it was unbelievable that her mother actually seemed to think that _kidnapping their daughter instead_ left any hope of reconciliation alive.

“Lady Rittyn,” said one of the unfamiliar mages, “we're close to breaking the spells here. If you would help for just a moment...”

Her mother looked up. “Yes, I'll be right there.” With one more lingering glance at Lucy, she went to join the others. A few seconds later, Lucy felt her protective spells shatter. And then she heard Katie start to cry.

Desperate now, agonized at how physically close she was yet still so helpless, Lucy threw everything she had at getting free. And something gave. It was a tiny fracture, not enough to break through, but she had to do it. Now her mother was holding Katie in her arms, exclaiming over her tiny wings and shushing her in a loving tone. “It's all right, my little darling,” she said. “Oh, you're so beautiful! Grandma will take care of you.”

The Rittenhouse mages hurried out of the house after that. Lucy's mother didn't look at her again on the way out, though she did warn her companions of the need to leave quickly. Lucy, meanwhile, was continuing to fight against the magic holding her in place. The crack was widening, but it was still too strong to break. And now her daughter was out the door, her cries getting louder and more upset. Lucy felt her own heart shattering. _No, no! Katie!_ It caused physical pain now, somehow, as she flung her power at the almost unyielding spell. But she couldn't stop. She couldn't let them take her.

Finally, her efforts caused the crack to turn into a web of breakages. One more blow destroyed it. “Katie!” she screamed, running out of the house. But the Rittenhouse mages were gone – and so was her daughter.

Sobbing, Lucy ran in the direction she could tell they had gone, heedless of her bare feet. Then the trail of magic stopped, right at the edge of their property. There was no trace of them after this – nothing that she could find, anyway. Her daughter was gone. Stolen. “No!" She grabbed the trunk of the nearest tree to keep herself from falling to the ground as her legs gave out underneath her. This could not be happening.

Then she straightened up, staring back toward the house. “Wyatt!” She barely recognized her own voice. Her mother hadn't said anything about taking Wyatt with them, but what had they done to him? She had no idea how she was even supposed to begin to handle this, how she could possibly hunt down her mother and the rest of these Rittenhouse thugs and get Katie back, if Wyatt wasn't there by her side. Taking a ragged breath, Lucy ran back the way she had come. Again, the uneven, rough ground barely registered. To her relief, Wyatt was still where he had fallen, at least. Now, she had to find out if he was still _alive_.

“Wyatt,” she called, and then collapsed into a coughing fit. She hadn't done this much sprinting in months. But she forced herself to keep going until she reached his side. “Wyatt!”

His eyes were open, under the thick ropes wrapped around him. His face was frozen in dismay. The ropes were imbued with magic, of course; she felt it as soon as she touched them. But he was alive. That was the most important thing. Trembling and still coughing, Lucy began to pull the net off him. She wiped a few tears off her face in irritation. She needed to be able to focus.

As soon as she used a combination of her magic and physical effort to get most of the first layer of the net off, Wyatt inhaled sharply. He blinked a few times, and then met her eyes. “Lucy,” he said, sounding like each syllable took a great deal of effort, “stand … back.”

“What-- oh.” She took a few steps back. A second after that, her husband's right arm glowed, and then his sword was slashing its way through the remaining cords.

She moved forward again, thinking he might need help to stand up, but he shook off the ropes and jumped to his feet right away. He hadn't put away his sword. There were faint red marks on his skin from the cords, she saw with a pang. He shook out his wings, wincing. “Lucy,” he said, still breathing heavily as he stared at her, “did they-- did they take Katie?”

Feeling another sob building in her throat, Lucy nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “It was my mother. My own _mother_ stole our daughter! And I couldn't stop her! They put some kind of-- of freezing spell on me, and I tried, Wyatt, I tried, but she just took her away, right in front of me!”

For an instant, although it was broad daylight, Wyatt glowed as bright as he would at midnight. Brighter, even. Even his eyes – his eyes were lit with that same blinding white light. But as Lucy's control broke and she started to sob again, the light dimmed. He reabsorbed his blade and went to her, holding her in his arms. “We're going to get her back,” he said. “We'll get her back, and we'll stop Rittenhouse once and for all.”

Something in his tone made her shiver, even as she wholeheartedly agreed with the rage she could hear and feel in him. If her mother and father had thought this was a way to get the two of them on Rittenhouse's side, Lucy thought, tightening her grip on Wyatt, they were going to find out just how wrong they were.

~~  
Wyatt almost didn't need Lucy's confirmation that their daughter was gone. He hadn't been able to move, trapped in that goddamn net, but he could hear. He had heard the mages come up to the house, and had heard someone speaking to Lucy, though she herself hadn't spoken. He had heard Katie start to cry. But then those cries had faded in the distance, and his heart had sunk like a stone. _No._ The pain and muted panic of being trapped (reduced so drastically by Lucy's ever-present counteracting spell) had been nothing to the agony of listening to his little girl being taken while he couldn't do anything to stop it. And then he had heard his wife's despairing wail of their daughter's name, cutting into him like a physical weapon. Rittenhouse. This had to be Rittenhouse.

Wyatt had never felt a rage like this. It burned in him without ceasing, making it damn near impossible to put his sword away after Lucy had freed him enough that he could cut through the rest of the net himself. Rittenhouse had taken Katie, their barely five-month-old infant daughter, in an effort to bring Lucy and him to heel. Or maybe they didn't care about that part as much as they cared about having a child of Lucy's to try to control and manipulate like they'd tried to do with Lucy. But that was not going to happen. Not as long as he was alive to stop it. And he knew Lucy felt the exact same way.

The two of them worked to pack up the bare essentials from their house, silent and brutally efficient. Wyatt knew there were things, precious things, keepsakes that they would have wanted to take with them in other circumstances. But those would have to wait. Since Lucy had told him, as soon as she stopped crying, that she was certain her mother had taken Katie back into the human world, that was where they were going. They had no time to waste.

Lucy spared a minute to write a message to Rufus – just a few lines to warn them about their return and why they were coming back. She sent it via magic, as usual. Then they got into the truck and drove.

“They won't hurt her,” Lucy said, after about an hour of driving. (Wyatt had been resenting every mile between them and the Boundary this whole time; it had made sense to be a good distance away when they first came, but now every mile increased the lead Rittenhouse had on them.) “They want to keep her safe and healthy.”

Wyatt nodded. That was, in fact, the only mercy here. He didn't have to imagine anything being done to their tiny helpless daughter; she was probably as happy as she could be, away from her parents. It was not all that comforting, though. Neither was the fact that at least she had grown out of the stage where she was more vulnerable to cold than other babies. She was still vulnerable to a host of other things, like any child her age. And she was still in Rittenhouse's hands.

They drove for another short while, and then Lucy gasped. Wyatt turned to her quickly. “What? What's wrong, Lucy?”

“She's going to be hungry soon,” she said, her eyes filling with tears again. “And she's never had formula before.”

Wyatt clenched his jaw. Of course both those things were true. The thought of how Carol Preston was depriving both her own daughter and her granddaughter made the rage simmering under the surface grow stronger again. He had to consciously force both his hands to stay on the steering wheel, when all he wanted was to take out his blade and go fight … something. Or someone. Rittenhouse, ideally. They were all going to pay for this.

Lucy sniffed and wiped her eyes. When he glanced at her again, her face was set. “We'll find her. Soon.”

“We will.” Wyatt thought of this morning, how he had watched Katie interact with her mom before, during, and after nursing. The sight had, as always, brought him a rush of love for both of them. Lately, Katie seemed to love snuggling with her mother almost as much as she enjoyed eating. And she loved spending time with her dad in the evenings, especially. He wasn't sure what she was thinking when she watched him start to glow, but she always grinned at the sight. Tonight, he probably wasn't going to get the chance to see that.

The mixture of fury and pain was getting stronger. It wasn't just his right arm that was heating up. He tried to breathe normally, and focus on the dusty road.

“Wyatt,” said Lucy, a few seconds later, “I, um-- Are you going to look like that when we get to the Boundary? I can try to do a concealment spell, but I'm not sure if it would even work when you're … like this.”

“Like what?” He looked at her, and then at himself. His eyes widened. He was glowing. Now, in the middle of the day. All over. It wasn't decreasing. “Oh.”

“I'm not asking you to stop,” she said quickly. “I-- I understand where it's coming from. But we are going to attract more attention.”

He took some more slow, deep breaths, and let them out. The brightness decreased – about halfway. That seemed to be about all he could manage. “I guess we're going to attract attention, then,” he said. “Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe we can at least convince Boundary Enforcement to be on the lookout for any known member of Rittenhouse, although I don't know why any of them would bother coming back into the Wild Lands now that they have what they want.”

Lucy blew out a breath, and then her own fists clenched in her lap. “Yeah. And Rittenhouse already found us here, anyway, so it's not like we really have any reason to hide.”

As it turned out, there weren't many people at the Boundary, at least. Wyatt rolled down the window and met the guard's eye unflinchingly. “We need to cross.”

The kid (he couldn't have been more than twenty-two) stared at him, and then at Lucy, and then back at him. “Uh, yes, sir,” he said, clearing his throat. “May I see your passports?”

Wyatt nodded once. Lucy was already passing them to him, and he handed them to the guard. “Have you seen anyone else go through this way, in a vehicle or on foot?” he asked. “It would have been a group of three men and one woman, with a very young baby.”

“No, I-- I haven't seen anyone like that,” said the kid. Whatever he saw in Wyatt's eyes just then made him gulp and add, “Sorry, Lord Star. I'll, um, I'll tell everyone to be on the lookout, though.”

“Do that,” said Wyatt. “And if you see anything, contact Agent Denise Christopher on the human side, with Homeland Security. This is in relation to an ongoing kidnapping case.”

“Yes, sir,” said the guard again. He blinked. “What, uh, what's the child's name? So I can pass this information on to my superiors?”

“Katherine Logan,” said Lucy. Her voice was steady, though Wyatt could see how much effort it was costing her to keep it that way. “Our daughter. She's five months old.”

The kid's eyes went even wider. “By the moon,” he swore softly. Then he stood up straight. “If there's anything we at Boundary Enforcement can do, sir and ma'am, we'll do it.” Then he handed their documents back, and saluted.

His earnestness might have been kind of amusing in another situation. As it was, Wyatt just nodded again, and pressed down on the accelerator. They were about to cross the Boundary, which was going to feel just as unpleasant as it had back when Ardan sent them through, so he would have to concentrate harder on his driving for that. But the border crossing wouldn't distract him for long. He hoped to God that Agent Christopher was already assembling all of her resources. Otherwise, he had no idea what he and Lucy were going to do – other than that he knew for himself that he would not be sitting around and waiting for news. He had to do something. He had to get his daughter back.

~~  
Rufus watched as Wyatt paced back and forth in the debrief room. Lucy was standing nearby, though not in his way, and she didn't look any less tense than he did. Her face was somehow both haunted and full of anger. But it was only Wyatt, of course, who was glowing. Full-on emitting light like it wasn't daytime, in the human world. And whenever he happened to look in Rufus's direction, Rufus couldn't seem to hold back a shiver. His _eyes_. This was not something he had ever read about in his studies of Brightstars, or ever experienced on a mission with Wyatt. This was downright alarming.

Not that he could blame the guy. Rufus was furious and scared, too. He hadn't even had the chance to meet his little niece (he'd already been considering himself an honorary uncle), and he still cared about her. How could Lucy and Wyatt not be in agony right now?

“Well?” Wyatt snapped, after approximately forty-five seconds of pacing, glowering, and glowing. “Where is Emma?”

“She's still in the present,” said Jiya, staying admirably calm. She had volunteered to be the one to try to track down the Mothership using their as-yet untested hack – even in spite of the added pressure of an enraged Brightstar and mage breathing down her neck. Rufus was impressed. Not that he wouldn't have stepped in if Jiya hadn't said she would, first – but still. “Within a hundred miles of here. That's all I have so far, but I'm still working on it. I should be able to narrow it down.”

“Good.” The Brightstar calmed down – very slightly.

“Hey, where's Flynn?” Lucy asked suddenly. She glanced around the room, as if expecting him to appear from behind someone else in there.

“In a heavily-guarded one-room apartment not far from here,” Agent Christopher replied. When Lucy gave her a look, she said, “What? Were you honestly expecting I would stop treating him like a prisoner, just because I have no other option than to use him for missions while you two aren't available? He's still a terrorist, Lucy. Giving him a real room to live in for now is the best I can do.”

She sighed and nodded. “Fine.” Rufus got the strong feeling she wasn't done with that topic, but that she had decided not to focus on it for now. He wondered if she wanted them to get Flynn to help them find their kid … although he couldn't really imagine what the man would have to offer in that case. Even if he had been not totally awful as a temporary partner on missions. But since there was a squadron of soldiers who were pretty much always ready to go take down Emma if she was ever found in the present, Flynn seemed like an unnecessary addition, to Rufus's mind.

At that point, Connor cleared his throat. “I almost hate to bring this up, since I assume you've already tried, Lucy,” he said, “but is there no way to do what you did to find me, and use a locator spell on your daughter?”

“I did try,” she said with another nod. “They must be blocking me somehow. I can't get more than a general location. She's not in another state. It feels like she might be at least as close as Jiya just said Emma is, but that's all I know.”

Mason gave a sad smile. “All right. I understand.” He'd been pretty quiet this whole time, Rufus thought, other than offering his support for the idea of using this as a catalyst to take down Rittenhouse, or as much of it as they could. That was their rationale for finding Emma, in hopes that they could then use her to find Cahill, Lucy's mom, and Katie.

A few minutes passed, during which the loudest sounds were Jiya's fingers tapping the keyboard and Wyatt's occasional frustrated sighs. Then Lucy suddenly winced and sat down at the table, still frowning.

“Lucy? What's wrong?” Wyatt (Lucy's husband – that fact seemed like it should be hard for Rufus to get used to in person, but it really wasn't) asked her, coming to stand next to her.

“Oh, it's-- it's not a big deal,” she said. When that didn't seem to satisfy him, she said, “Just, um, I think I must have cut my feet some when I was...” Her voice wavered a little, but she took a breath. Rufus saw her sit up straight. “When I was running after the Rittenhouse mages, and then back to you.”

“You were barefoot?” Rufus winced in sympathy. Lucy had described how far she'd run to try to catch up to Katie's kidnappers, but hadn't mentioned that she wasn't wearing shoes.

Wyatt's glow dimmed as he said, “You should've told me. We could have taken the time to do something about it, instead of making you suffer for no reason.”

Lucy scoffed. Whatever she said in response – quietly enough that it was obviously only meant for Wyatt – made him swallow and nod. “Still,” he said.

“Lucy, you're perfectly free to go down to the infirmary and have them take a look,” said Agent Christopher. Then she looked apologetic. “Or I can have someone bring a first aid kit here at least, so you don't have to walk.”

“Or I could heal--” Wyatt started, but Lucy stopped him.

“No. No, thank you,” she replied, to both Agent Christopher and Wyatt. “I'll be fine. I can heal myself. Though these socks might be a lost cause.”

This last part was said with what almost succeeded in being a smile. Almost. It made Rufus wince again. And if it was hard for Rufus to see her like this, he wasn't surprised that Wyatt had a harder time dealing with it than he did. “Lucy,” he said, his voice low, “please. Let me do this for you, since I can't-- I can't do anything for Katie right now.”

“No,” she snapped. Then she sighed and took his hand. “Wyatt, I know you want to help. But since I can't find Katie or help her right now, either, the least I can do is keep you from hurting yourself for me. And yes, I know you'd be fine, but that doesn't change the fact that I can do it for myself, without causing anyone pain.”

Silence fell, and now Rufus felt intensely uncomfortable, like he had witnessed something he shouldn't have.

“It's taken care of now,” said Lucy, into that pause.

“Ha!” Jiya shouted right then. Rufus was pretty sure everyone else, him included, jumped at least six inches into the air at the sudden sound. “Sorry,” she said, glancing around. “But, uh, I just narrowed down the Mothership's location to this twenty-mile radius. And maybe if we have access to something that can detect traces of radioactivity...”

“I'll get right on it,” said Agent Christopher, standing up. “But in the meantime we can start to narrow it down further by simple process of elimination. What kinds of places are there in that radius?”

Everyone gathered around Jiya's workstation, even as Connor said, “No need to worry about reaching out to anyone who might have a modified neutron or gamma ray spectrometer. I've procured several, for just this kind of eventuality.”

Agent Christopher gave him a look. “Once again, that's something I might have benefited from knowing,” she said, “assuming that's a device that detects the kind of traces left by the power source the Mothership uses.”

“Correct,” said Mason distractedly. He was focused on the screen. “Can we agree that this section of this quadrant here is highly unlikely, as it seems to be a mall?”

Rufus got in on the discussion after that, and soon they had a much smaller portion of the twenty-mile radius to investigate with Connor's portable spectrometer device. Which, apparently, was mounted on a drone. “Perfectly legal and cleared with the government,” the man assured a skeptical Christopher. “As far as I know.”

Rufus let himself wonder for a second just how much detail Connor had shared with the government about this thing's capabilities, but to be honest he wasn't going to let it bother him too much. If it helped them find and finally stop Emma, and rescue little Katie, it was worth it. He squeezed Jiya's shoulder. “You did good.”

“I know,” she said, smiling briefly before worry took over her expression again. “I just hope this works. Quickly.”

While Connor stepped out to oversee getting the drone up and running, Lucy turned to Agent Christopher. “I think it's time we called in Flynn.”

“What?” The agent's eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“Because we need all hands on deck,” she said, her own hands on her hips. “And because there's no way he wouldn't be eager to help take down Emma, in order to take down Rittenhouse.” And then her gaze fell, and she swallowed hard. “Plus, he knows what it's like, to lose a child.”

Wyatt came over to stand next to her. “I agree. Let's get him in on this.”

Now that was surprising. Since when had Wyatt even tolerated the idea of working with Flynn? But then Rufus had a thought that changed his mind right then. “You know,” he said, “I think I agree, too, because of something Flynn told me one time when I was-- when Emma got the drop on me and he chased her off.”

“And what's that?” Agent Christopher said, still obviously unconvinced.

“Ah.” That was when Rufus remembered that he wasn't sure how many people even knew Flynn was Wer. Then again, it was only the Time Team in the room – counting Jiya – and Agent Christopher, who had a file on the guy. So maybe she already knew. “Uh, does that file you have on Flynn say anything about his fae status?”

At that, she cocked her head. “What does the fact that he's Wer have to do with anything?”

Jiya let out a muffled exclamation, and Rufus hoped she wasn't going to be too irritated with him later for not telling her this. “Well,” he explained, “that time with Emma, she seemed terrified of him. And we know Emma doesn't scare easily. He told me afterward that there are lots of old-fashioned mages – like the kind that Rittenhouse is probably full of – who are scared of Wer for some reason.”

“Oh, I know the reason!” Lucy interjected, her eyes brightening like they always did when she knew the answer to a particular question. “Or at least one of the reasons: I read that if a Wer were to bite a mage, to turn them, that mage would lose their magic as part of the transformation process. And I'd bet that scares those types more than the threat of being outright killed.”

The bitterness in her tone at the end there was hardly a shock. Rufus felt the same, though probably not as strongly as she did. He looked over at Agent Christopher.

The woman sighed and nodded. “All right. Fine. I'll bring him in – as long as you're all aware that this still doesn't change his status as a criminal in the custody of the federal government.”

“We're aware,” said Lucy.

Wyatt started to pace again a few seconds later, his fire back up to full strength. Rufus just hoped they'd get this mission started as soon as possible. He didn't know how much longer his friends could keep going like this.

~~  
This time, at least, Flynn had some warning that Lucy and Wyatt were on their way to see him. Or, more accurately, he was to be brought in to see them, and to hear about some kind of plan the team had put together to take down the main players in Rittenhouse. There had been an odd edge to Agent Christopher's voice when she had called, and Flynn didn't think it meant good news. So he was curious and (he admitted to himself) a little concerned. It wasn't that he really liked these people now, even after working on their side for over a year. But he did respect them, all of them. Plus, by his quick calculations, Wyatt and Lucy's child would not be old enough for them to consider themselves safe from Rittenhouse, which meant something must have happened to bring them back across the Boundary.

When he arrived at Mason Industries with his charming Homeland Security escort, Flynn saw the couple in question, and took a sharp breath. As he had suspected, something had to have happened to their child. Even if it hadn't been written all over their faces, the way Wyatt was glowing brighter than all the artificial lights in the room was confirmation enough.

“Your child,” he said, without wasting time on a greeting. “What happened? Did Rittenhouse find you?”

Lucy nodded. “They took her. They're hiding her location from me, but we're pretty sure we know where Emma is. We want to use her to take them all down, if we can.” Her voice was hard.

“Ah,” said Flynn, sighing. Kidnapping. It was only logical, for a child with such parentage. Too bad his little Wer girl had had nothing to offer as a reason to keep her alive. Still, it would be absolutely unforgivable to knowingly allow a Brightstar child to remain in Rittenhouse's clutches. “And you want my assistance.”

“You've proven to be useful,” Agent Christopher said, with an expression that made it clear she wished she didn't have to admit it. “And frankly, we need all the help we can get.”

“Yes.” He pursed his lips, and then glanced at Wyatt again. He had honestly thought the _vatra bijesa_ was a myth (as if it made sense that only parts of the stories of Brightstars were too fanciful to be true). “I'll help,” he said, “on one condition.”

Predictably, Agent Christopher narrowed her eyes. “You don't have the right to set conditions, Flynn. Will you help or not? If not, I can send you back to the black site you were in before you agreed to be Rufus's backup.”

“I may not have the right,” he said, “but you said it yourself: you need all the help you can get. So how about you hear me out, agree to give me what I want, and then we all go out and destroy Rittenhouse together? Stop Emma, get Lucy and Wyatt's-- daughter, is it? Get her back. Make the world a better place.” He smiled faintly. He was only being half sarcastic there. If they were able to accomplish these things, the world would have to be a better place as a result. It was only logical. “Plus, as an added bonus, you wouldn't have to keep allowing me to be out of prison for all these time jumps, if the Rittenhouse threat is finally eliminated.”

Rufus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at that point, muttering something that had the words “unbelievable” and “jackass” in it. Wyatt and Lucy, however, just looked resigned.

“Fine,” said Christopher, after a pause. “You can tell us what you want, but I'm not making any promises.”

Flynn looked down for a moment, and then right at Lucy. “You know what I want: I want my family,” he said. “I don't think it's too much to ask. If I do my part to restore your family, and if we survive this, I want my wife and _my_ daughter back.”

Lucy nodded once, as if she had been expecting this. Wyatt, however, shook his head. “Even if you get another chance with the Lifeboat, there's no guarantee you can get them back,” he pointed out. It wasn't said with anger, though, and in fact the sympathy in the man's expression was difficult to deal with. His fire was diminished for the moment as he went on, “No guarantee at all, no matter how much you try to get everything exactly right.”

“I'm aware,” said Flynn. He swallowed. “But I still have to try, just as you did. If it doesn't work, at least I'll know I did everything I could.”

There was silence then, for a full minute at least. Flynn didn't move. He didn't dare to hope, even though he knew what he said to Agent Christopher was true: they needed him.

“ _If_ I were to agree to this,” said the agent at last, fixing him with a glare, “you would have to understand that you would not be permitted to take a trip in the Lifeboat by yourself, no matter how personal a mission it is for you. And no matter the result of the trip, I can't just forget the long list of crimes you've committed.”

Flynn closed his eyes for a moment. He knew it would be torture, in some ways worse than what he already endured every day, to have his wife and daughter back, alive, and yet be unable to be with them. But no. They would be alive. That would be all that mattered. Perhaps he would even be allowed to see them – or even more, depending on how much bringing them back changed the timeline. “I understand.”

She sighed heavily. “I still have to clear this with my superiors – and it's not going to be an easy sell.”

He was gaining ground. He kept himself outwardly calm. “Tell them whatever they need to hear. Put more restrictions on me, if you must. But I'm only going to do this mission if I get your promise, in writing, that I will be allowed to try to save my family afterward.”

“Understood,” she said stiffly. Then she pulled out her phone and stepped away.

While she was making her call, Flynn crossed his arms and walked away from the rest of the group, staring out the window at the Lifeboat below. He could feel the others staring at him, but he had no wish to talk to them. Nor did he want to spend time in close quarters with other parents dealing with the loss of their child – until he had to.

Things started to happen quickly after that. Agent Christopher secured her superiors' grudging approval for Flynn's request/demand. Resources were assembled. Flynn was filled in on some of the details of their plan, such as it was.

“I'm not sure Emma would be in on all the secrets of her Rittenhouse masters,” he pointed out, when they explained that part of the rationale for getting to her first. “Plus, she's obviously a true believer who would rather die than betray them.”

“We can persuade her to tell us whatever she knows,” said Wyatt. His fire was back at nearly full strength. “Trust me.”

Flynn smiled. “True, we have some excellent means of persuasion among our group.” Now he almost hoped Emma did prove stubborn. He wanted to see what Lucy and Wyatt would do to her. And then of course there was the chance he could add his own methods of persuasion to the mix. “All right. Then what? After we learn some possible locations for your daughter and Lucy's parents, are we launching a frontal assault? That seems foolish.”

“Well, they have committed an easily provable crime this time,” Agent Christopher said. “I have a squad standing by. Anyone present at the location could be charged with either conspiracy to commit kidnapping, or as an accessory after the fact.”

Flynn nodded. They had, in fact, thought about this logically. That was good. “Well, then.” He smiled again. “What are we waiting for?”

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so remember how I thought this was going to be the last chapter? I ... have a lot more left. So, thanks again for continuing to read this ridiculously long story, and oh by the way, this is now going to be a series.
> 
> P.S. According to Google translate, _vatra bijesa_ is Croatian for "the fire of anger/rage". Again, I am more than willing to correct that if anyone has a better translation.


	17. Chapter 17

~~  
Lucy tried to calm her breathing. She needed to be in control before she faced Emma – or at least to start out that way. She knew it was going to be impossible to maintain it.

And Wyatt? She wasn't sure he was going to even pretend to be calm. She was going to have to be sure he didn't cut off Emma's head or something before they even got the intel they needed from her. His fiery response to Katie's kidnapping had continued basically without stopping ever since he'd come out of that net. It was probably only going to get stronger now that they were on the warpath.

As for Rufus and Flynn, the two of them had been pretty quiet during the trip to this warehouse where Jiya had said Emma was located. Rufus had insisted on coming along, though. “I might not be great at fighting, but I can and will disable the Mothership, as soon as you guys tell me it's safe to do so,” he had said. “And then when Emma tells you where Rittenhouse HQ is, once you guys can let me know I'm not in immediate danger of getting shot, I want to go in and find whatever records I can. I know Rittenhouse isn't big on writing stuff down or saving it in computers, but I bet there'll still be a lot that we can use to track down anyone who's left.”

And now here they were. Emma was surrounded, according to the men Agent Christopher had sent with them and who had been ordered to clear the building first. She had no access to the Mothership, no way of escaping. In fact, she was currently tied to a chair just inside the back door to the warehouse.

“Let's go,” said Wyatt then, impatient. “Rufus, you're up.”

Rufus squared his shoulders. “All right.” Then he gave the two of them a meaningful look, and Flynn a glance. “Be careful in there. We, uh, we need her alive.”

Wyatt didn't reply. Lucy cleared her throat and said, “Got it.”

Once they were inside, the three of them went right for where Emma sat, guarded by four men. Wyatt looked at the nearest guy. “Give us the room.”

The guard hesitated, but when Wyatt held his gaze, he nodded. “Yes, sir.” A few seconds later, all four guards had left. Emma, meanwhile, was looking at the three of them with interest. Her gaze went to Wyatt and Lucy more than to Flynn.

“You two look a little different from the last time I saw you,” she remarked. “Or a lot, maybe. Where have you been?”

“Don't pretend you don't know,” said Lucy, allowing her anger to translate into a chilling rush of cold air. “We don't have time to play games with you.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Really? What's so urgent? You actually found me for once, and you have the Mothership. I don't think--”

Wyatt drew his sword then, pressing the tip of it to her throat in one fluid motion. “And you have our daughter,” he snarled, spreading his wings to their full span while towering over her. That, coupled with the fact that he was still shining with that white light, would have to make for an extremely intimidating view for the woman in the chair. “Or your bosses do. We'll find her with or without you – but things will go much better for you if you tell us what you know.”

Emma had gone pale, and she swallowed against the tip of the blade. “I--” She coughed, and Wyatt decreased the pressure on her, just a fraction. “I-- I wasn't involved in that plan,” she said faintly.

“I'm sure you weren't,” said Flynn just then. He was prowling around their group, looking very much like the wolf that he could become whenever he chose. “Kidnapping a Rittenhouse heir is above your pay grade, no doubt. But that doesn't make you innocent.”

“Definitely not,” said Wyatt. He folded his wings halfway, but did not lower his sword. Lucy took a moment to wonder how he'd even managed to unfurl his wings in the first place, since she'd thought he was wearing the same black shirt and pants (though not the rest of the tactical uniform) that the other soldiers who had accompanied them were wearing. “So. Don't make me wait. Or my wife. Or your old friend Flynn there. None of us are feeling very patient right now.”

Emma blinked. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Then she coughed again and said, “I don't know where your daughter is.”

Wyatt scoffed, but Lucy stepped forward then. “Okay. Enough. We're not going to waste any more time on this song and dance.” She thought of her daughter, the sweetness of holding her in her arms, and let that fuel her. “If you won't tell us as much as you can, I'll look and see for myself.”

At this, Emma's eyes widened, and she leaned as far away from them both as possible. “No,” she said, and there was more desperation in her tone than Lucy had ever heard. “Please!”

Wyatt gave Lucy a look of approval before focusing his attention back on their prisoner. “Then give us what we need.”

A moment later, Lucy had had enough of waiting. She targeted her magic at Emma's mind, following instinct, her secondhand experience when Mason had been kidnapped, and the information she had read about mental attacks. To her shock, though, her attack was met with one coming from the very mind she was targeting. Emma. Of course she was a mage, too.

But either she wasn't trying very hard (which didn't seem likely, especially judging by her obvious fear), or she wasn't as good at this. Lucy fought off Emma's wild blow. Any lingering discomfort she might have had about doing this to another person was gone now. She pushed against Emma's defenses. Emma winced and shook her head. Lucy pushed harder.

And a few seconds later, she was in. Ignoring as best she could anything that wasn't relevant (she didn't need to know anyone's darkest secrets, much less Emma's), she searched for information on Katie.

Lucy was only vaguely aware of the sounds Wyatt, Flynn, and Emma were making, or even of what they were doing. She was busy.

There. She was watching something unfold, from Emma's point of view. Judging by the glimpses of her surroundings, and the outfits that her mother (Carol Preston had traveled in time?) and others were wearing, this had to be World War I. Rufus had written to them about a trip to World War I a few months after Katie was born, but he hadn't said anything really important had happened. But now... Who was that on the stretcher in front of Emma? They had brought someone from the past to the present?!

Things got blurry in the memory for a bit, and then they cleared to show the same man (or at least Lucy thought it was the same man) from WWI lying on a bed in some elegantly-decorated room. He had bandages all over his chest, but he was upset enough that he was trying to sit up, in spite of obvious pain. There was a large, heavy book open on the bed next to him.

 

“Your _daughter_?” he was yelling at Lucy's mother. “My great-granddaughter? How could you let this happen?!”

Lucy could almost feel Emma's agreement, though she kept quiet. Meanwhile, her mother sighed. “Nicholas--”

“No,” the man interrupted, shaking his head. “No, I don't want to hear excuses. I just want to hear what plans you have to get her and her _progeny_ back here with us, where they belong.”

At that, Lucy's mother frowned. “Surely you can't actually object to her having found a Brightstar and married him.”

Nicholas glared before acknowledging he wasn't displeased about that happy accident. “We can use him, too, of course,” he said.

Even Emma felt uncomfortable about the silence that fell after that comment. “When you say 'use',” she said, clearing her throat, “what do you mean, exactly?”

“Oh, don't tell me your recruits aren't being educated about our House's history now?” was Nicholas's impatient response, as he turned toward Carol again. Before she could reply, he looked at Emma. “How does anyone use a Brightstar? Tell me you know that much, at least.”

Emma was revolted, though she did her best to hide it. “I do know that much,” she snapped. “I also know Rittenhouse left those kinds of practices behind at around the time we helped drive most of the remaining Brightstars into hiding.”

“Emma,” said Carol warningly. But she stood up straight as she said, “Nicholas, what Emma is trying to say is yes, we're all aware of that part of our history. But we would much rather bring Lucy back with her whole family – intact – to join us willingly.”

The man rolled his eyes, but didn't dismiss this out of hand. “Then figure out a way to do that,” he said. He leaned back against his pillows. “Quickly. Or we'll be forced to make other plans in order to get my bloodline back where it should be.”

“Understood,” said Lucy's mother.

 

Lucy came out of the memory with a gasp. There were at least a half dozen things in that brief scene that would rock her to her core (again) if she tried to process it all right now. She had to compartmentalize as best she could. Fortunately that was a skill she had developed over the course of her travels in the Lifeboat, and she hadn't lost that ability even after more than a year away. She needed to focus on what was most important for right now. “Where is Nicholas?” she demanded of a shaken, panting Emma. “Is the place where he is the same place my mother took Katie?”

Even as she continued to gasp for breath, Emma's trademark smirk passed across her face. “You know, princess,” she panted, “this is just … what he wanted. He wants you … to come home. And now that … he has your daughter … you'll keep doing whatever he wants.” She glanced at Wyatt. “You both will.”

Before either Lucy or Wyatt could do more than begin to react, Flynn was somehow suddenly right next to her. “The thing is, Emma,” he said, his voice a growl, “you seem to be forgetting the many, many ways we could make sure you do whatever we want. For instance, I'm sure you know that any non-Wer who's changed into a Wer will find it very difficult not to obey the one who turned them.”

Emma's face had gone even paler now, as Flynn touched her shoulder with a hand that now looked an awful lot like a huge wolf paw. Complete with claws that were touching her skin. “No!” If Lucy had thought she looked desperate before, that was nothing to how she looked now. She strained against her ropes again. “Stop him! Get him away from me!”

“Aw, and after all those trips in the Mothership together, I thought we were friends,” said Flynn, with a mock frown. He didn't move his paw, or transform it back.

“I suppose we could stop him, if we wanted to,” said Lucy, turning to Wyatt. “But I don't see any reason we should. Do you, Wyatt?”

He must have put away his sword at some point during her mental tussle with Emma, because his arms were crossed now. “I do not. In fact, why don't we just step away for a little while?”

“Oh, to give us privacy?” Flynn grinned. “Not necessary, but I appreciate the courtesy.” When he turned his attention back on their prisoner, Lucy saw with a little jolt that his eyes were bright yellow-green now, with pupils that she guessed would have been slits if the light in here wasn't so low.

Emma let out a cry, and then said, “Fine! Yes, that place you saw is probably where your daughter is. And if you call off your dog, I can guide you there.”

“Not a chance,” said Wyatt with another scoff. “You think we're going to give you even the smallest opportunity to pull something? You'll tell us how to get there. That'll be good enough.”

“Or I'll go back into your mind and find it myself.” Lucy took a step closer, and didn't hide her satisfaction when the other woman flinched.

Flynn, meanwhile, had not backed off at all. “There's really no need to go to all that effort,” he said, glancing at Lucy before refocusing on Emma. “This _dog_ can bring her to heel with just another small flick of my wrist, after all.”

“No!” Emma cried. Then she glared at Flynn, at Wyatt, and at Lucy in turn. “I'll tell you – if you get him out of here.”

“Good choice,” said Lucy with a smirk to rival Emma's usual one.

~

Maybe there were some people who would say it was over the top for Lucy to use her magic to literally blast in the doors of the large business complex where Emma had directed them. And it definitely wasn't what most people would call strategic, since it meant she'd probably alerted Rittenhouse to their arrival, but Lucy couldn't bring herself to care. She was not going to hold back any longer. Now that they had some real intel on their daughter's location, she and Wyatt were not going to let anything or anyone slow them down.

Or at least, that was what she thought at first, until she and Wyatt were forced to reconsider – by Flynn, of all people.

They had quickly surrounded the young woman who was apparently the receptionist of whatever business (obviously a front) this was supposed to be. She was terrified, quite plainly. Whether she was Rittenhouse or not, she didn't seem to have much to offer in the way of information. In fact, she was barely coherent through her terror and sobs as she begged them all, several times, not to kill her.

“Come on now, you have to know something,” snarled Wyatt, looming over her in much the same way as he had with Emma. “Anything! Anything your Rittenhouse bosses ever let slip!”

The girl cowered and shook her head. “No, no, I don't know anything! P—please, just-- just let me go, I won't tell anyone anything about this, please!”

“You're damn right you won't,” Wyatt agreed. He pulled her up by the shoulder with the hand that wasn't holding his sword. “Now. I'm going to give you one more chance. Where. Is. My. Daughter?”

But the girl had no answer to give. And now Lucy was distracted from her own fear and rage, by a tendril of worry. Wyatt … Wyatt was out of control, or as close to it as she'd ever seen. “Wyatt,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the girl's crying. “Wyatt!”

He looked away from the receptionist, and although she almost couldn't see into his eyes through the white light he was emitting, she could tell he was looking at her. “What?” he snapped.

“She doesn't know anything,” Lucy said. “Let's go. We're just wasting time now.”

He stayed where he was for a moment, and then let out a sound of frustration as he all but dropped the young woman back onto the floor behind her desk. “Damn it. Fine. You're right.”

At first, Lucy was relieved that he saw reason. But then her relief turned to icy-cold dismay when her husband raised his sword then, clearly about to strike the defenseless woman on the floor.

“No!”

It was Flynn who got to him first, and grabbed onto his upraised arm. “Wyatt, no!” the man yelled. “No, you must stop yourself!”

Wyatt shook him off, infuriated, and turned to face him. “What the hell, Flynn?” he shouted. “Get out of my way!”

“Wyatt, think about what you're doing,” Lucy pleaded, hurrying over to stand next to Flynn – and between Wyatt and the sobbing Rittenhouse girl. “Let's just-- let's just keep looking for Katie.”

“Listen to your wife,” said Flynn. There was no hint of anything but sincerity and even distress, on his face and in his voice. He was holding up his hands. “Please. The girl is innocent, or at least innocent of this matter. Can't you see?”

Wyatt was breathing heavily, and his blade was still out. “She'll go tell her bosses about us,” he said, but it looked like the rage might be fading a little. “We can't just let her go.”

“All right, fine,” said Flynn. “We'll tie her up – or Lucy can put a sleep spell on her, so she can't go anywhere until your daughter is safe. But do not kill her.”

At that, Wyatt scoffed. “That's rich, coming from you, Flynn,” he shot back. “How many bystanders, people who were barely involved, have you killed?”

The man sighed, and lowered his gaze briefly. “Yes, I admit to that,” he said. “I haven't been careful with human and fae life, and I'll pay a price for that. But you...” He swallowed, and looked at Lucy before focusing on Wyatt again. “You're a Brightstar. Your very nature requires you to care. To _take_ care. If you were to take the life of one who was not worthy of death...” Now he almost looked ill, as he gestured at the gleaming sword in Wyatt's right hand. “Your blade would be dirtied. Polluted. And so would you.”

Now Lucy felt ill. Flynn obviously believed what he was saying wholeheartedly. How had she not known this? She had known it was wrong, of course, but this... This sounded much worse than she had imagined. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

Wyatt staggered back a pace, and lowered his arms. He looked lost now. Lucy stepped forward, just as he reabsorbed his blade. She took his other hand. “It's all right,” she told him.

He shook his head. “No, it's not,” he said, and for an instant she saw something like the wild, agonized look in his eyes that had been there at the Alamo. But then he straightened and looked over her shoulder, toward the doorway behind the reception desk. “Now it's me who's wasting time. We need to go, right now.”

Lucy didn't protest. They did have a more urgent focus on right now – but she also knew this was something they were going to have to deal with later. Meanwhile, she would take Flynn's suggestion and make sure the poor Rittenhouse girl could sleep through the rest of this.

When they went through the doorway, all three of them stopped almost in unison. This … this large hall looked a lot more like a place where Rittenhouse might have its secret headquarters. It was huge and ornate, and also full of grandiose decorations which didn't fit at all with the architectural style of the outside and reception area of the building.

And then a guard came around the corner, and Flynn shot him before the guy could do more than fumble to reach for his gun. “Let's bring Christopher's soldiers in on this now,” said Flynn, apparently deciding to ignore the whole incident they had just gone through. “Rittenhouse is about to know we're here, if they don't already, and they aren't going to go down easily.”

Lucy was glad Wyatt didn't protest or grumble. Instead, he simply radioed to the squadron of soldiers outside, telling them to begin the process of infiltrating the building. “Be advised there are likely to be civilians involved, that they may have been alerted to the attack,” he said, “and that our intel suggests a hostage situation.”

Hostage situation. Lucy thought of Katie, her sweet little smile, and clenched her fists. It was at that exact moment that they all saw the movement from at the top of one of the huge staircases in the hall. Another guard. Wyatt took this one out – but the one right behind him had time to pull the fire alarm before he fell. Lucy sighed and shut it off with her magic. Now there was really no chance of a surprise attack.

Wyatt's radio crackled. “Guys, do you think--” Rufus's voice started to say.

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by an explosion at the base of the nearest staircase. The blast wasn't huge, but it was enough to knock the three of them backward. And then, as Wyatt rushed to make sure she was all right (she was, really – just a little bit shaken up), more guards started to pour into the hall. She, Wyatt, and Flynn were quickly surrounded. Wyatt had his sword out, and Flynn's gun was at the ready … but for the moment, the guards were aiming but not firing.

And then Nicholas Keynes came out of the doorway at the top of the other staircase – holding Katie in his arms and wearing a very smug expression on his face. “Well,” he said, looking only at Lucy. “You must be Lucy, my wayward great-granddaughter. You've caused us a great deal of trouble – you and your band of renegades.”

Lucy started forward, but stopped when all the guards cocked their weapons. “Give us back our daughter,” she demanded. Katie seemed all right, though she was not looking in her parents' direction at the moment. But she was all too aware that her little girl's wellbeing could change in an instant. “Now.”

“Oh, I don't think I will,” said the man. In his arms, Katie squirmed. “See, your mother thinks you can be convinced to take your proper place with your House, at her side. She believes you can even get your Brightstar to stand with us. But I'm not so sure.”

“So what, then?” said Lucy. “If you're so convinced that we _can't_ be convinced, then why haven't you just killed us?”

Keynes shrugged, then shushed Katie with practiced ease when she made a sound of distress. “Perhaps I just wanted to meet you. To see what you two are capable of, in person.” His gaze went from them to Flynn, and any shred of interest faded. “Him, on the other hand? Not intriguing at all. The very fact that you're willing to associate with a Wer of all things does not give me much hope that you're trainable. But we'll see.”

That was all the warning they were going to get, it seemed. Lucy only had a half second to feel the defensive magic her great-grandfather had just erected around himself and Katie before the Rittenhouse guards started to advance. And then she had to focus on fighting.

Katie, she thought, as she threw a blast of magic at the first guy in front of her. _We're going to get you out of here. Don't worry._

~~  
This was not going how it needed to go. It was dragging on too long.

Wyatt had enough focus to spare from his goal of getting to Katie that he could realize this fact. Their backup – Agent Christopher's squad – were going to be overwhelmed by the Rittenhouse forces in just a few more minutes, especially since there were several mages among the Rittenhouse men and none among these men. And meanwhile, Nicholas Keynes – Lucy's great-grandfather – was still standing at the back of the ballroom with that smirk on his face, holding Katie in his arms. Totally confident in his safety, behind that invisible protective wall he'd set up with a spell.

Katie was crying. Wyatt could hear it, even above the noise of combat all around him. The sound of his child was enough to keep the fire raging through his veins, and without even really thinking about it, he used this fuel to hone his attacks and dodges to greater precision. He knew that Lucy was close by, using her magic ability to devastating effect on most every Rittenhouse soldier she came into contact with. Even the other mages stood little chance against her. But somehow there were always more to take the place of those that fell.

And Flynn? Well, Flynn had apparently decided he would be most effective in this fight in wolf form. He had taken down more than a dozen of the enemy on his own, and although Wyatt's quick glances had shown him to have sustained a few injuries, he was continuing to fight with what almost seemed like glee.

But this wasn't enough. Wyatt was sure of this. Even if there hadn't been more and more enemy troops coming, the fact that Keynes was so smugly confident – and that he had Katie – meant bad news. And...

Wyatt swore under his breath as he swung his sword at another foe. They were holding back. How had he not noticed this yet? At least the ones attacking him and Lucy, they were acting more like they wanted to keep the pair of them busy rather than take them out. Which meant--

“All right, that's enough.” The woman's voice carried throughout the huge room, even though she wasn't yelling. “Nicholas, if you would?”

“Certainly, Carol,” said the man. A second later, Wyatt was frozen. So was Lucy – and from the corner of his eye, it looked like Flynn was, as well. He fought against it, this spell like the one that had allowed Rittenhouse to take Katie from Lucy in the first place, but it was useless. This was strong magic. Which made sense if it was coming from two of Lucy's most powerful Rittenhouse ancestors.

Katie was whimpering now, sounding exhausted. Wyatt could only kind of see her from his angle. It looked like Keynes was handing her off to Carol. “Lucy,” said the woman, stepping down off the platform and through the ranks of her soldiers. (They weren't frozen, of course, but they seemed to only be moving enough to capture or kill the remaining members of Agent Christopher's squadron.) “Sweetheart, this is your last chance. Your great-grandfather and I want to give you one more opportunity to take your rightful position – here, with the rest of your family. Your Wer terrorist will have to be put down, of course, but Katie should have her parents with her. Don't you agree?”

She was just a few feet away from him now, Wyatt knew. Being so close to his daughter and yet unable to move was torture. He poured all his effort into breaking the spell, only vaguely aware of how his light blazed up even brighter as a result.

Katie twisted in Carol's arms, reaching out for him with a wail. “Yes, that's your daddy,” said Carol with a smile, not allowing her any closer. “And if your mommy does the right thing, you can go back to them in just a little bit, darling girl.”

Wyatt's vision went red. This woman was restraining his daughter – _hurting her_ – by waving her in her parents' faces like this. This kind of cruelty was impossible to fathom.

“Mom.” Lucy's voice was strained and faint.

If Carol was surprised that her daughter could speak under this spell, she didn't show it. Instead, she just walked out of Wyatt's view to where Lucy was. “Yes, Lucy?”

“Just … take me, and let … Wyatt and Katie go.”

He struggled fiercely. _No!_ Of course she would try something like this. But if she thought he was going to just agree to it, she was completely wrong.

Keynes laughed – a hard, sharp laugh. “Well, how very noble of you, girl. But it's past time you learned that Rittenhouse – your house – doesn't take orders from renegades and blood traitors.”

“I'll … do whatever you want,” Lucy said, her breathless voice desperate. “Just … let them go.”

“It doesn't work like that, sweetheart,” said Carol, sounding sad. “But I appreciate the fact that you're trying to make this work. We can talk some more later, if you promise you and your husband will stop fighting now.”

Katie let out an ear-splitting shriek that then dissolved into more weary crying. Wyatt gritted his teeth (he could almost move that much) and tried again to break the spell. It felt a lot like ramming his shoulder into a solid metal door over and over.

“Well?” said Keynes into the silence. “I'm not hearing any promise. While I will admit they're as impressive as you said they'd be, this still looks like a waste of time and energy – which is just like I told you it would be.”

Carol was in the middle of saying something in an irritated tone when she was interrupted by multiple figures crashing through all the windows of the upper floor of the ballroom. Multiple winged figures, each holding their own sword.

“What the hell?!”

Wyatt could only see four or five of them from his frozen point of view, but that was more than enough to be sure: somehow, a whole contingent of Brightstars were here. He had no idea how they knew where Lucy and he were, much less that they needed backup. Regardless, they seemed to be able to identify the key targets without any problem – which is to say, he thought most of them flew toward Keynes immediately. The man let out a terrified yell that was cut off suddenly. Wyatt wished he could see what was going on there.

Meanwhile, he heard several Brightstars land behind him, where Carol, Katie, and Lucy were. “Release them, and hand over the child,” came Estella's voice.

“Or what? Aren't you afraid I'll hurt her?” asked Carol, her voice hard. “After all, you know I know what benefits a Brightstar can bring.”

Wyatt felt the magic that gripped him weaken, just the smallest fraction. He focused on trying to turn his head toward his family. It felt like it might eventually work this time.

“Even a lady of Rittyn House would not so easily cause permanent harm to her own granddaughter,” said one of the others. “Or do you really want to prove us wrong in that belief, mage?”

There was another sharp yell from Keynes, and the immobilization spell weakened even further. Wyatt grunted and pushed against it again. It was going to give.

“Just give her to me, Mom,” said Lucy's voice, a few seconds later. She sounded tired and angry, but not nearly so strained as before. She must have gotten free. “I don't want to keep fighting you. But I will if I have to.”

After a tense pause, the spell holding Wyatt splintered, and he shook himself free. When he hurried to turn toward Lucy, he saw to his tremendous relief that Carol was in the process of handing Katie to her. Katie's little arms were outstretched, and then she clung to her mother with a fresh wave of tears.

Tears spilled down Lucy's face as she shut her eyes, holding Katie securely and taking a deep, slow breath. Wyatt came over to join them, reabsorbing his sword so that he could wrap his arms around both of them. As soon as he touched them, it was like a cool, gentle flow of water began to soothe the burning in his heart and soul. His fire dimmed.

That was, until Lucy gasped and looked down at the crook of Katie's right arm. “What is this?” She touched the soft skin near the bandaid, and then pinned her mother with a glare of pure rage. “What did you do?!”

Carol shook her head, eyes wide, as the four adult Brightstars around her raised their weapons. “No,” she said, although it sounded feeble at best. “No, that wasn't my idea. I never wanted it.”

It. Blood. They had taken blood from his helpless baby daughter. Wyatt's vision went red again, his fire blazed back up to full strength, and his sword was against the woman's throat before he could even breathe. “Monster,” he snarled.

Swallowing, Carol straightened and met his gaze. She didn't give any attempts at excuses or denials.

“Wyatt.” Lucy's voice made him pause. The rage was still there in her face, but there was also a hint of what might have been worry. “I think she's telling the truth. It wasn't her idea.” Then she was walking past them, toward where Nicholas Keynes was kneeling on the platform, surrounded by half a dozen warriors with their swords at his neck. Her face was set. “It was his.”

Wyatt turned back to Carol for a moment. Lucy's mother sighed, nodding almost imperceptibly. He took his sword away from her throat.

When he had crossed the room to where Keynes was, Wyatt saw with no small amount of satisfaction that the Rittenhouse bigwig no longer looked so smug. In fact, it looked like he was sweating. Still, he managed to sneer as Wyatt got close. “We haven't really been formally introduced. It's Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan, isn't it?”

“Stop talking,” said Lucy, and suddenly, the man was silent. His eyes were wide now, but he couldn't seem to move other than that. “Now, you'll speak when spoken to. Did you personally take blood from your own granddaughter's granddaughter – or did you order someone to do it?”

Keynes' mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds. Then he grimaced and said, “Yes. Yes, I did it.”

“Why?”

He scoffed, though Wyatt noticed he was looking anywhere but at Katie or the other Brightstars around him. “Because you and your peacock of a husband denied Rittenhouse what is rightfully ours by your rebellion, so I had to take what I could.”

It was very, very hard for Wyatt not to kill the man right then, but he could tell Lucy wasn't quite done yet. So he waited, teeth bared.

“And what did you do with the blood you stole?” she asked. (Somehow, Katie had fallen asleep in her arms, even in the midst of this tension. That was a mercy, at least.)

Keynes seemed even more reluctant to answer this, but when all of the adult Brightstars brought their swords even closer to his skin, he rolled his eyes and said, “The War left me with a number of injuries that were slow at best to heal, even with the aid of magic. And after all, how can a leader lead if he's not at one hundred percent?”

Wyatt was sure everyone else there had made some kind of irate sound in response to this. He thought he might have even heard a growl from behind them, and there was one brief second where he wondered if Flynn was free of the immobilization spell, too. But he couldn't spare more than that moment to think of anything else but what this man had done to his whole family. “Lucy,” he said, through clenched teeth, “I know he's your great-grandfather...”

“He's no family of mine!” she hissed.

“Oh, please, the child is fine,” said Keynes. “I didn't cause her any real damage, and if anyone is disowning anyone here, it's hardly going to be you, girl. Carol, what are you doing? Are you just going to let these winged idiots and your daughter do whatever they want with us?”

Carol scoffed. “'Let'? What do you expect me to do about it? We're outnumbered, Nicholas.”

As if to underscore that point, they heard the sound of wings. When they all looked up, at least ten more Brightstars were flying in through the broken windows, each with their blade drawn. But there was no time for Wyatt to see if he recognized any of them, because Keynes seized this moment of distraction to lunge forward...

He had no chance to think about it. He had to act. Keynes was moving toward Lucy and Katie, and his face was full of hatred and fear. Wyatt drove his sword forward, stopping Keynes suddenly and violently. He felt no regret as the life left the Rittenhouse mastermind's eyes. He pulled his blade free and let the man fall to the ground.

And with that, Wyatt felt a rush of relief. His family was safe. He let out a sigh and looked up from the dead man at Lucy. The fire that had been engulfing him all day was fading – for good, this time.

“Let's get out of here,” she said to him, smiling.

“Yeah.” He tore his gaze away from her to look at Estella and the other Brightstars. “Thank you, all of you, for your help.” He would need to talk to them more at some point, but that could wait.

Estella smiled. “It was our pleasure,” she said. “Now, I fully agree with Lucy's idea for what the three of you should do next. I'm sure we can liaise with someone in law enforcement to get this business wrapped up without you having to stick around.”

He nodded. Exhaustion was hovering very close, he could tell. “Be careful, though,” he said, clearing his throat. “I don't think Rittenhouse is the kind of thing that can be wiped out in one blow.”

“Yeah. My father didn't ever show up here, for one thing,” Lucy muttered. She did not look toward her mother, he noted. That was another question to deal with later.

“We'll be alert. You take care of yourselves,” said Aaron then, coming over to stand next to Estella. “Lucy, you're going to need to take extra care of Wyatt in the next little while, since I'm guessing the heartfire has been pretty constant ever since your little one was taken.”

“Is that what that's called?” He looked down at himself. It was … good, that he wasn't glowing anymore.

Aaron nodded. “Yes, and it takes a lot out of you,” he said. “So you'll need plenty of uninterrupted rest.”

“Also a lot of food,” added Estella, elbowing Aaron gently with a grin at some shared joke. “And I do mean a lot.”

He chuckled. “Well, yes. Definitely that, too.”

Food did sound appealing, Wyatt thought. He blinked. He wasn't honestly sure he would be able to stay awake long enough to eat, though. That threatening exhaustion had just hit.

“And there it is,” said Aaron, when Wyatt yawned and staggered just a little bit. “Go on. Get some sleep. We can talk later.”

“Come on,” said Lucy softly. He looked at her. She hadn't been quite so close to him just a few seconds ago, but he didn't remember her moving. “We did it. We can go home now.”

Home? He shook his head, but followed her slowly out of the room. He wasn't really sure where that was, at this point. There was no way they were going to make the journey all the way back to their Wild Lands house right now. But as long as Lucy and Katie were with him now, wherever they went would be good enough.

~


	18. Chapter 18

~~  
Epilogue

It was all over, for now at least. The other Brightstars (and hadn't that been a very welcome surprise, that they had heard the news about Katie's kidnapping from the border guard, and then reached out to Lucy personally via another mage?) had probably gone back across the Boundary to their reserve by now. Carol Preston was in an NSA holding cell awaiting trial. Agents were combing Rittenhouse's headquarters for any information on the remainder of the group. Rufus, Mason, and Jiya were taking personal charge over the computers and other devices recovered from the scene.

Agent Christopher had found the Logan family a nice, spacious, comfortable, and secure hotel suite for them to stay in during their transition back to the human world, and Rufus and Jiya had insisted on helping them bring in what few possessions they had brought with them in their rush to get to Katie. Their mini fridge was also well-stocked. As for Wyatt, he had eaten the fast food someone brought for him, and then crashed onto the bed in the master bedroom of the suite as soon as he got there. It was only just after six at that point, but based on what the other Brightstars said, that wasn't unexpected. He'd been dead to the world since then.

“All right,” said Agent Christopher, after Rufus and Jiya had said their goodbyes and promised they'd be back to be properly introduced to Katie after the family had enough time to recover from today. “I'll leave you guys to yourselves for the night. Let the agents outside know if you need anything, or give me a call of course.”

“Thank you,” said Lucy, yawning before she gave the other woman a quick one-armed hug (the other arm occupied with a sleepy Katie). “And thanks for taking point on things with, um, with the Brightstars and with the Rittenhouse cleanup.”

“Of course, Lucy,” Agent Christopher said. “You and Wyatt had to do more than should ever be asked of any parent today, and now you need to rest and be with Katie. If I need to follow up on something regarding the raid today, it will wait.” She looked down at the little girl who was now trying to burrow into Lucy's shoulder. “She's beautiful, by the way.”

Lucy smiled and stroked a hand over Katie's head and back. “Thank you.”

She saw Agent Christopher to the door of the suite, and then closed and locked it behind her. Katie went from restless to whiny at that point, pulling at her mother's hair and generally making her unhappiness known.

“What? What is it, sweet girl?” Lucy asked her. “I know you aren't hungry. You and Mommy just ate a few minutes ago.” And that had been a definite relief, for both of them.

Katie let out another cry and looked around the room.

“Oh, are you looking for Daddy? He's asleep, honey. And he really, really needs to sleep right now, so I don't want to wake him up.” In fact, she wasn't sure she _could_ wake him up for anything short of another emergency. But when Katie wouldn't be placated, she took the little girl into the bedroom and showed her where Wyatt was passed out on top of the sheets. It didn't look like he'd moved since the last time Lucy had checked in on him.

“See?” she whispered. “Daddy's asleep. Like, practically unconscious asleep.”

Katie stared at him, and then back at Lucy with what she read as an annoyed expression on her little face. She gurgled and put several fingers in her mouth.

“We can go sit next to him if you want.” Lucy suited actions to words, and Katie immediately bent over and reached out her sticky wet hand to grab Wyatt's shirtsleeve. “Hey. Don't wake him up, sweetheart. Okay?”

But Wyatt, who was facing away from them at the moment, didn't stir. His breathing didn't even change, not when Katie pulled on his sleeve again, or when she managed to pull herself free of Lucy's arm long enough to almost face-plant onto his side. “Whoa. Careful there!” She caught her just in time.

A wave of fatigue hit Lucy just then, and she blinked slowly. There wasn't any particular reason not to join her husband right now, assuming Katie was also ready to go to sleep. She glanced over at the crib that one of their friends had loaned them, but just as quickly rejected the idea. Tonight, at least, this whole family would be staying together. Mom and Dad needed the closeness just as much as Katie would want it.

As quickly as she could, Lucy changed Katie's diaper, and then put her in the one extra outfit she'd grabbed this morning (remembering how much it had hurt to go through her daughter's things at that point made her clench her jaw). It wasn't really pajamas, but it was soft and comfortable enough that she thought it would do the trick. Then she found the sweatshirt Jiya had offered her, and changed into that for herself. At least she wasn't wearing jeans.

“Okay, baby girl,” she said, reaching down to run a finger along Katie's cheek, “if we try to go to bed now, are you going to actually sleep?”

Katie grinned at her, and then drooled.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Lucy wiped her face with a tissue. Now, to figure out how to get into bed when her husband was solidly asleep on top of it.

She scooped Katie up and held her against her shoulder. “Wyatt,” she called out, not super loud but not a whisper either. “Wyatt, can you hear me?”

He didn't move, but his breathing paused for a second.

“Wyatt, Katie and I want to come to bed. But that means you have to give us some room here.”

After a second, he muttered something unintelligible and turned toward them, eyes still tightly shut and looking very much like he didn't want to be even as awake as he was. “What?”

“I said, Katie and I want to come to bed,” she repeated, smiling a little at his grumpiness and scrunched-up face. He looked a lot like his daughter when she was in a bad mood, actually. “Can you move over so we can get under the blankets?”

It seemed to take several more seconds for him to understand this. But then he sighed, scooted over to one side of the bed, and then pushed himself mostly up off the sheets. “'S that good enough?”

She hurried to pull the sheets out from under him, smothering a giggle when he almost fell as she got them out from under his feet. “Yeah. Thanks, Wyatt.”

He mumbled something and collapsed back down onto the mattress. This whole time, his eyes had not opened once. But when Lucy set Katie down next to him, and then climbed in beside them both, his eyes cracked open. He saw her, then looked at Katie and smiled as she cooed at him. “Hi,” he said. He leaned closer, pressed a kiss to her head, and then promptly laid his own head back down and fell asleep again.

Lucy leaned over to kiss both of the faces next to her. Then she lay down. The last thing she felt before sleep took her was the faint warmth of Wyatt's wing spreading over her and their daughter.

Lucy wasn't sure at first what made her wake up, many hours later. Whatever it was, it was extremely unwelcome; she hadn't been this exhausted in a long time, and so she'd really needed some good, solid, uninterrupted sleep – secure in the knowledge that Katie was with them and safe.

But before she reluctantly opened her eyes, she stretched out a hand and realized what it was. Wyatt. He wasn't there. And she'd gotten so used to sleeping with his wing spread over her that its absence must have been enough to wake her.

Apparently it hadn't woken Katie, though. The little girl was still right next to Lucy, face pressed into her shoulder. Her soft warmth and quiet breaths made Lucy fight back another wave of relieved tears. She was here. She was safe. She was going to be all right.

Wyatt, on the other hand... Lucy tore her gaze away from her daughter to look around the darkened hotel room. A small movement by the window cued her to his location at the same time as she saw his faint glow (faint both because they were in the human world, and because of how drained he'd been after the day they'd had). “Wyatt?” she said quietly, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing? You should be sleeping.”

He shrugged, rustling his wings and turning away to push aside the curtain. It was still completely dark outside, so she wasn't sure what he could actually see. “Woke up, and then I couldn't go back to sleep,” he whispered back.

“What's keeping you awake?” she asked – though she had a guess.

He sighed and looked down. “I keep seeing her face,” he said, so quiet she almost didn't hear. “How terrified she was. Of me.”

“Oh, Wyatt,” she started to say, her heart aching at the pain that was so clear in his posture and words. But he wasn't done.

“I almost killed her,” he said. His voice was getting louder now. “Killed some poor secretary who had nothing to do with anything those Rittenhouse bastards have ever done to us! If you and Flynn hadn't been there...”

Katie stirred then, and both of her parents froze. Once she settled down again, Lucy spoke. “But we were there, and you didn't hurt her.”

“But I could have.” He took a deep breath, and then came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I, uh, I never told you what happened when Rufus and I stole the Lifeboat and went back to the 80s to try to save Jessica.”

Her eyebrows rose. “No. You didn't.” She had never asked, either – since it was clear from the few things Rufus had said that most of the trip had gone really, really badly.

If she'd thought he looked devastated before, it was nothing to how he looked now. Very carefully, Lucy moved to sit up, shifting Katie onto her lap. Their little girl frowned, but didn't wake. Relieved, Lucy reached out a hand so Wyatt could take it. Which he did.

“I didn't want to hurt them – Jessica's murderer's parents,” he said. “I was just trying to keep them apart. That was it. But then everything went wrong, and the man – Joel – ended up having good reason to be afraid I was going to kill him. So he ran outside, even though we were right in the middle of a gigantic storm. I tried to get him to stop, but instead he fell, and--” His voice broke, but he kept going. “I might as well have pushed him. There was-- God, there was so much blood.”

Lucy tightened her grip on his hand. He'd never told her any of this. In fact, he'd probably never talked about this with anyone. Which meant he had to have been carrying the weight of this by himself for well over a year. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

He gave her an odd look. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“I mean, I'm sorry that happened. To you.”

At that, he scoffed and looked away. “Don't you mean you're sorry I did that?”

“I think you already know I agree that that trip was … not a great idea,” she said gently. He swallowed and nodded, still not looking at her. “But I hope you also know that I understand why you went, and I did back then, too. And, well-- no matter what happened, it doesn't do you any good to hold onto that guilt. Though I know neither of us are that good at letting it go.”

He sighed again, but turned toward her. “Yeah,” he said, with a tiny smile. “Leave the past in the past, right?”

“Ha. Very funny,” she said. “But I mean, basically yes.”

And that might actually be closer to possible now, Lucy thought with relief. This last push against Rittenhouse had taken down what seemed like all of the remaining leaders. Obviously there were more loose ends to tie up, more to research, and the lingering threat of operatives seeded throughout history – not to mention the lingering need to go bring Amy back. To get Flynn's family back. But perhaps they could at least say their missions were on the home stretch.

“Well,” said Wyatt, after a long pause, “I'll try. But I don't know if I can stop seeing that girl's face. And Joel's face.”

There was another pause. Then he yawned, and she yawned, and then Katie stretched and grumbled a little. Lucy smiled as she stroked a hand over her daughter's sweet head. “Why don't you come back to bed? Just for a start.”

He nodded and climbed back under the covers. Lucy moved Katie so that she could lie down next to her family again. Wyatt's sigh was heavy, but he stretched out his wing over the two of them. She saw a few of the lines on his face relax when Katie made a contented sound and turned toward him.

“I love you,” Lucy whispered, reaching out her own hand to touch his face.

More of the tension left him, and he smiled. His eyes found hers, and he said, “I love you, too, Lucy. You and Katie, more than I can say.”

~~  
After the second day of total radio silence, she'd had enough. It wasn't part of her job, she knew, but she couldn't very well stick around the bar and do nothing indefinitely. Besides, the last message from Emma had made it sound like something big was about to go down.

So, Jessica took a day off and went back to headquarters to see if she could get things straightened out. But Emma wasn't there. Neither was Carol, or the new guy she'd never met but had heard about. No, instead she saw from a distance that the place was being picked apart by government agents of some kind. Jessica's heart sank. This was worse than she could have imagined.

Making sure she was out of view of any of the agents, Jessica sent a text to the number Emma had given her for emergencies only. Then she waited. And waited, and waited. It wasn't until hours later, after she had slipped away to get lunch and then come back (she didn't know what else to do, since just giving up and going home was unthinkable), that she got a response.

_HQ & leaders compromised. Heavy casualties. Regrouping at secondary HQ. E._

Well. Jessica swallowed and told her she would come as soon as she could. She was not looking forward to getting all the details – but she knew she needed to. If there was one thing she knew about Rittenhouse, it was that they would survive this. They had to survive this.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT FINALE, you guys!
> 
> I've wrapped up this particular story (and um, whoa, it turned out really long!), but decided the whole Jessica thing needed further exploration. So I decided Emma would escape - again. Look for a sequel-ish story in this series, with the first chapter coming soon!
> 
> Thanks again to all who have read, commented, and left kudos. May we be gifted with a season three renewal announcement sometime before we all die of impatience/anxiety!

**Author's Note:**

> *waves* Hello, everyone! This show sucked me in and I just had to write fic for it. It's my usual brand of weird, but I figured I'd just go with it this time.
> 
> I actually stole this idea from myself and from my sister. We had a whole half a story co-written for another of our fandoms, but that one sadly may not see the light of day due to that show's decline into awfulness. Hence, the ideas were up for grabs.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and thanks to Mack_the_Spoon for her beta.


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